A Brother For A Brother
by Sparks Diamond
Summary: A secret that Bobby thought he buried along time comes back to haunt him when a revenge seeker from his past finds him. When Jack becomes the object of this man's revenge, how will Bobby and the others save him before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hey guys! Here is my attempt at a chaptered Four Brothers story. Another attempt anyway. Hope you like it. Please review when you're done! Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Four Brothers or anything else I may have mentioned in this story that did not come from my own mind.

**Thanks to: **My cousin. Not a Four Brothers lover like I am. But she helped me with some of the character names and some of the details. So thanks to her, you know who you are.

**Note: **I'm not sure of the exact ages and age difference so I just put the brothers as four years apart. Also, I didn't know what bands Jack would like so I went with what popped into my head lol.

…

**Chapter One:**

_**Colorado, 1992**_

_Bobby Mercer sat on the ground with his back against the cold alley wall. The events of the past week were running through his mind and while he was glad it was over, he couldn't get rid of the feeling in his stomach that told him he had made a grave mistake. When he was given the job, his instincts screamed at him not to do it. But he had no choice. If Bobby had learned anything in his 21 years it was that you needed to do whatever you had to in order to survive. But in doing whatever was needed to survive didn't always mean doing the right thing. _

_Hearing his name being screamed in the distance made him jump to his feet. _

"_Bobby! Bobby!"_

_Looking down the dimly lit alley behind the bar he spent many nights in, he saw a figure coming towards him. As the figure got closer and closer, he recognized who it was and he let his hand drop from the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. _

"_What the fuck happened?" Bobby asked his friend upon seeing the utter shock and grief on his face._

"_It's Sid, man," the shorter boy choked out between sobs. "He's gone, Bobby, he's gone!"_

_The feeling in his stomach turned into a knot and for a brief moment, Bobby felt like he was going to be sick. But he pushed it down. He couldn't possibly be responsible for this. He would have noticed Sid and he would have told the kid to get the fuck out of there. _

_No, no, it couldn't be possible. Sid wouldn't…._

_But then Bobby remembered something that made him want to be sick again. It was less than half an hour ago and he was beyond exhausted. He just wanted to get it over with and by that time, he didn't even look at the teenagers and other customers that approached him. At the time, he didn't pay any attention to the five boys that were his last customers. All he wanted to do was get out of there and finally get a chance to go back home. Thinking back now, he remembered seeing a short kid with a grey hoodie standing with the other four boys. His face was covered by his hood but Bobby noticed his yellow shoes and thought himself that a kid wearing something like in this neighbourhood was sure to get beat up._

_The transaction took a few minutes and the group of boys disappeared around the corner. Bobby didn't give them a second thought. He wished he would have now._

"_They found drugs on him and they said he OD," the boy, who was now on his knees, said. He was crying and his words were coming out in a jumble. "Drugs on him. Sid would never. Sid was smart. Sid is dead. Drugs."_

_Bobby grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him up so they were almost eye to eye. He shook him a few times to get him to stop._

"_What was Sid wearing?" he demanded frantically._

"_What—what are you talking ab—"_

"_What was he wearing?" Bobby shook him again; hard. The other boy finally stopped and focused for a few seconds. _

"_I—he was wearing a grey sweater and-yellow-converse—"_

_Bobby gasped involuntarily and let go of his friend at once. Realization came rushing at him and the force of it made him turn and be sick in an old crate. When he was done, he once again met the eyes of his grieving friend. But grief was no longer there; it had been replaced by anger. Bobby's reaction had given him away._

"_You did this to him?" the shorter of the two demanded. "You gave him that shit?"_

_Bobby shook his head; all words in his vocabulary failing him. His friend came towards him with his arms outstretched, ready to attack. So Bobby Mercer did the only thing he could. He turned and ran as fast as he could._

_He ran all the way home. But the last words he heard were ones that would never stop haunting him._

"_I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS BOBBY MERCER!"_

…

_**Detroit, 2000**_

It was good to be home.

When a person has been away from home for a long amount of time, they tend to forget how comforting the sights and sound of a familiar place can be. While they're gone, they won't be homesick. In fact, they'd probably never even think of home that often; wrapped up in the things that took them away in the first place. But when one finally returns home, the sense of joy and familiarity that washes over them can never be replicated. To know that you are home is to know that you are happy.

And Bobby Mercer was happy to be home. The seven months spent sleeping in random motels and eating questionable diner food three times a day everyday had gotten old fast. All that was on his mind then was eating a home-cooked meal and sleeping in his own bed. And of course, seeing his family.

Sure, he had kept in touch while he was away but talking on the phone wasn't as good as seeing someone. Home was definitely where he wanted to be at the moment.

A few minutes later Bobby was parking his old, sputtering brown car at the curb in front the house he was glad to call home. Turning off the car quickly, Bobby exited the car and grabbed his worn-out duffle bag from the trunk. It was black and had many patched up holes and he gave himself a mental note to get a new one. He walked up the steps and tried the doorknob, not surprised that the door was unlocked.

"Angel," he muttered to himself.

Angel couldn't remember to lock the door to save his life! Bobby threw his bag near the stairs and hung his jacket on the coat rack. He accidently made Jack's leather jacket fall and he left it there, snickering to himself. The little fairy would just have to get over it. Poking his head into the living room, he was greeted with silence. The room hadn't changed much—magazines on the table, TV in the corner and a glass that someone had left behind.

But no family.

"Where the hell is everyone?" he muttered to himself, beginning to get a little discouraged. He comes home after being gone for half a year and there's no one to greet him!

"Jack, get your ass in here and do the fucking dishes!" came a voice from the kitchen. Bobby immediately recognized it as Angel's.

Bobby walked silently through the living room and stopped in the kitchen doorway. Angel was at the sink, looking at the pile of dirty dishes that was stacked there. He had his hands on his hips and Bobby couldn't help but laugh. Looking around from where he stood, he eyed a tennis ball that someone had left laying around—probably from a round of indoor hockey-and he grabbed it. With a chuckle, he threw it at Angel, knocking him square in the back of the head.

"What the—"Angel began, turning around. He stopped when he saw Bobby and his eyes went wide for a moment.

"What's the matter?" Bobby said, laughing. "No hug for your big brother?"

Angel laughed along with him and hugged Bobby. After they broke apart, he shook his head at his brother and smirked.

"You always show up like this, Bobby," he said, shaking his head again but chuckling as he did. "Never calls just shows up!"

"The fuck do I need to call for?" Bobby asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sitting down at the kitchen table. He twisted off the cap and gulped down half the bottle. He wiped his mouth and looked around. "Where's everyone?"

"Ma had some meeting at work," Angel said, leaning against the wall. "Jer is with Camille. You know they are getting married right?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, nodding his head. "Jerry called me after he proposed. Told me I gotta wear a fuckin' suit!" A laugh followed by a few seconds of silence passed between then. "And how about your little sister?"

Angel scowled at the mention of Jack and nodded his head towards the back door. Bobby lifted himself from his seat and looked out the window. Sure enough, he saw his younger brother sitting on the back steps smoking a cigarette and looking surly as usual. Bobby rolled his eyes at Jack's choice of attire. He sat back down and took another swig of beer.

"It's fucking September," Bobby said, throwing his empty beer bottle at the garbage can and getting it in. "Why the fuck is he out there in just a fucking t-shirt?" He stopped Angel before he could sit down. "Get me another beer."

Angel shrugged his shoulders and his got Bobby and himself a beer. Sitting down at the table, he shrugged again.

"You know him," Angel said, clinking his beer against Bobby's and then taking a long drink. "Stubborn. I fucking hate teenagers."

Bobby grinned. "You know, Ang, you were a teenager just last year…."

"Fuck off, Bobby," Angel replied. He turned to look out the window at Jack for a second. "I'm telling you, Bobby. The kid's a stubborn, moody little shit." He turned back around and had another swig of beer. "I told him to come and fucking clean the dishes five fucking times already."

"What else is new?" Bobby said with a roll of his eyes. A smile then appeared on his face. "Let me go get him."

Bobby rose from the table and headed for the back door, beer bottle in hand. Slowly, so as to not catch Jack's attention, he opened the door and stepped onto the small back porch. He half wanted to laugh and half wanted to shake his head at his younger brother. Jack, clad in only a t-shirt, was smoking and staring out into the open air in front of him. From where Bobby stood, he couldn't see Jack's face but he imagined the little fairy looked zoned out as he usually did; lost in his own world.

Holding back a laugh, Bobby held the beer bottle over the unsuspecting Jack's head and tipped it over. The remaining contents from the bottle spilled all over Jack and he jumped up suddenly.

"Angel—what the fuck? I said I was coming—"

He stopped when he realized that it wasn't Angel standing there. His eyes did the same "wide with surprise" thing that Angel's had. And then he just stood there for a few seconds, looking dumbfounded.

"Bobby?" he said finally, wiping the beer from his face and shaking his head to get it out of his hair.

"That's right," Bobby said, pulling Jack into a hug. When they parted, he said, "Shocked to see me, you little fairy?"

Jack scowled at the name. He hated when Bobby started the name-calling. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh get over it," Bobby said, ruffling his brother's hair. "Don't make me lock you out here."

Jack shook his head but finally cracked a small grin. He was happy to have Bobby home again. To him, it didn't seem like the family was complete when one of his brothers were gone. He threw his now wet cigarette down on the ground and joined Bobby on the small little porch area. Bobby looked at Jack with his eye-brows raised and whistled.

"Shit, Jackie, when did you get so fucking tall?"

Jack shrugged. "One day I woke up tall."

Bobby snorted and clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. His little brother was definitely a man of few words. "I could still kick your ass, though," Bobby said. When Jack just shrugged, Bobby added, "Come on, let's go inside."

"So you're home now," Jack said, a thoughtful expression on his face. Bobby stopped to look at him.

"Yeah that's right," he said. "I'm home now."

Jack nodded. Silence passed between them for a second. "Does that mean you'll do the dishes now?" A smirk appeared on his face as he said it.

"Get your fairy ass in there and wash the dishes!"

Bobby laughed and pushed his brother into the house. With a sigh and a smile, he walked into the house and closed the door behind him.

Yeah. It was definitely good to be home.

…

Bobby finished flipping through the channels for a third time before coming to the conclusion that nothing good was on TV. He left it on some random reality show and threw the remote towards the table. It bounced off the edge and fell onto the floor. After realizing there was no more beer left in his bottle, he groaned in frustration.

He thought he'd at least have one person to talk to but everyone had gone their separate ways. Angel claimed he had important business to take care of. Bobby knew he was going out with Sofi and only lied about it to escape being made fun of. Jerry showed up for all of about five minutes before rushing off to continue planning his dream wedding with his bride to be. He was surprised and genuinely happy to see Bobby but his having to leave didn't warrant for a good catching up conversation. Jack went to his room after washing the dishes like a pissy little girl, claiming he "had stuff to do."

So, in short, Bobby was fucking bored out of his mind.

He picked up the beer bottle again; hoping beer had magically materialized out of nowhere. He knew there was a whole other six pack in the fridge; he was just too lazy to get up and get it.

The sound of the front door opening made him perk up and he was thrilled at the thought of someone; anyone being there to keep him company. _God, _he thought, _I've gotta get a fucking life. _

Making his way to the front door, he inadvertently bumped into the person who had just walked through it. Evelyn Mercer jumped, not having seen him there, and almost dropped the bag of groceries she was holding. She put her hand over her heart.

"Bobby?" she exclaimed, happiness filling her features. "What are you doing here?"

Bobby chuckled and took the bag from her. "Boy, I seem to be getting a loving reception tonight."

"I'm sorry, honey," she said with a laugh. She hung up her pale blue coat and walked over to hug him. Pulling away, she smiled up at him. "It's good to have you home, Bobby." She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen with the groceries.

Bobby set the brown paper bag onto the counter and began taking the items out. He looked down at the various fruit and vegetable items with disdain. "Don't you buy cookies anymore, Ma?"

"It doesn't hurt to eat healthy," Evelyn replied. Off Bobby's look, she laughed and took pity on him. "Third shelf in the cupboard," she said as she began putting the food away. After contenting himself with a box of cookies, Bobby sat at the table. Evelyn turned to look at him. "How long are you planning on staying this time, Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged and stuffed another cookie into his mouth. "Don't know. Two weeks, maybe a little more."

Evelyn nodded at this but then a look of concern crossed her face when she saw the cut over Bobby's eye. She rushed over to him quickly and looked at it, touching it as gently as only a mother could. Bobby moved his head out of her grasp, giving her a little chuckle.

"Ma, it's fine," he said. "Hockey's a rough sport."

"I worry is all," Evelyn replied, going back to the groceries after he assured her he was completely fine.

"Well, don't!" Bobby said. "I can take of myself!" He stood and threw the now empty cookie box into the garbage. "How's everything been here?"

"Everything's fine, Bobby," Evelyn said, closing the fridge. She leaned against the counter next to him. "Your brothers are doing good for themselves."

"Jack?"

"He's okay, honey," Evelyn replied, giving Bobby a reassuring look. Bobby always looked out for Jack and even though he wouldn't admit it, he worried about him. "He starts school tomorrow."

Bobby scoffed and shook his head. "That explains his mood, then." After a few seconds of silence, he pushed away from the counter. "I think I'll go have a talk with the fairy."

"Bobby…." Evelyn's tone was playfully scolding.

"Don't worry, Ma," Bobby assured with his all too familiar grin. "I won't ruffle his feathers….too much."

Evelyn watched as he made his way upstairs with a smile. She was glad to have all her sons home and safe. It was all a mother could ask for.

Bobby didn't bother knocking on Jack's door. He threw it open like usual and walked in. He couldn't help but make a face when he saw the state of the room. Clothes were all over the floor, the bed spread was half off the bed and there was a collection of glasses on the dresser; some empty and some half-full and one that looked so disgusting it might as well had something growing out of it. Bobby shook his head.

_Typical Jack._

But Jack wasn't in the room. The window was open and Bobby wondered for a second if Jack pulled his climbing out of the window shit again. Bobby never understood why the kid couldn't use the front door like a normal person. It's not like it was late and he had to sneak out. But he heard a door open from behind him and a few seconds later, Jack walked past him and sat on his bed. He didn't say anything but rather raised his eye-brows in a way that said _"Can I help you with something?"_

"Oh come on, Jackie," Bobby said, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Of course I am, Bobby," Jack said. "I'm just…." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"All right, that's it," Bobby said, giving Jack's shoulder a little shove. "No more fucking princess of the dark moodiness shit. What's your problem? Is starting school really that fucking scary?"

Jack scoffed at that and shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's stupid, anyway."

Bobby rolled his eyes. He forgot how much he hated this. Getting Jack to talk sometimes was like pulling teeth. And he would start pulling teeth if Jack didn't just come out with it.

"Well?"

"Some car was following me today," Jack said finally. He leaned back onto his headboard and pulled his guitar onto his lap. He softly plucked at the strings, waiting for Bobby to answer.

"What?" Bobby was struck by the stupidity of the situation at first. But then his internal worry alarm went off and his view changed. "What do you mean following you? What did the car look like?"

"Umm…." Jack began. He was still absentmindedly playing random chords on his guitar. "It was following me everywhere I went today. It was a black car."

"A black car?" Bobby echoed.

Jack nodded. "It was black with tinted windows."

"Damn it!" Bobby said. His anger rose as he began to worry more. This was all he needed now; someone going after Jack. "So I guess you didn't see the driver then?"

Jack shook his head. "Tinted windows." He thought for a few seconds. "But it wasn't really following me as I walked or anything. It was just there; parked wherever I was."

Bobby got up from the bed suddenly and made his way over to the door. He turned in the doorway to look at his younger brother. His anger was definitely starting to flare up now. He wanted to know who the fucker that was following his younger brother was. Another part of him told him that it could be nothing, just Jack's paranoid side playing tricks on him. Regardless, he'd be on the lookout.

"Don't worry about it, Jack," Bobby said. "I'm here now."

"Right," Jack said with a slight roll of his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Jack…."

"You're here now," Jack said without looking up. His voice was near a whisper. "But how long will you stay?"

Bobby bristled at that. Before shutting the door behind him, he said, "Like I said, Jackie, don't worry. I'm here."

…

The next morning, Bobby stopped Jack at the front door before he left to catch the bus for school.

"Jack, I can give you a ride."

"I'm fine," Jack said. He attempted to leave a second time but Bobby grabbed his arm to stop him. Jack huffed. "Bobby, really it's fine."

Bobby thought about it for a few seconds. He stuck his head out of the door and looked up and down the street both ways before letting go of Jack's arm. "Just be fucking careful," he finally said. "If you see any black cars, call me and I'll come pick you up."

Jack rolled his eyes but nodded. He quickly made his way down the steps before Bobby had the chance to change his mind and force him to get into the car so he could drive him to school. Jack had to admit that being followed rattled him and he understood Bobby's reaction. But he was used to doing things on his own and doing what he wanted. He hated how Bobby could be so damn overprotective sometimes. He saw the old yellow bus pull up to the corner and cursed under his breath, running as fast as he could and getting on just in time.

And over in the next neighbourhood, a similar scene was being played out by two brothers at the exact same time.

"Are you ready?"

The younger of the two was delayed in reacting. He let out a long stream of breath and fidgeted from foot to foot before finally nodding. "I get it. Really, I promise."

The older brother didn't look completely convinced. "You remember exactly how we planned this? You know what to do and what to say? You know what name to use?"

"Yes!" He immediately looked reproachful for speaking in the manner he did. He nodded again. "Please, we've been over this. I know exactly what to do. I won't fail you."

That seemed to placate the older one for the time being. As the younger brother walked down the steps of the old house, he could feel his older brother's eyes on him as he went along. With one hand in his pocket and the other tugging at the silver cross he always wore around his neck, he sighed, silently prayed for the strength he needed and ran to catch the bus that was just rounding the corner.

…

School was one thing that never greatly interested Jack Mercer. He hardly paid attention and he hated doing homework that he was sure was only given to teenagers to torture them. All he wanted to do was play music and work on his music career but he promised his mother he would graduate high school first. So there he was, sitting in class and waiting for the hour to be over, when someone poked his shoulder. He looked up from the doodle he was drawing in his notebook and locked eyes with the person that poked him.

It was the new kid in school, a short kid with spiked brown hair. The teacher introduced him at the beginning of the class but Jack couldn't recall his name. He didn't know what to say so he just waited.

"Cool sticker," the kid said, nodding his head towards the _Metallica _sticker on Jack's worn-out blue binder. He stuck out his hand for Jack to shake it. "I'm Mark Sidney."

Jack looked at his hand for a few seconds but finally shook it and replied quietly, "Jack Mercer."

After the introduction there was small-talk during which Jack spoke low and in a cautious tone. He was always one to be a bit untrusting at first but as they began to speak about the music they both liked, Jack began to relax. Jack found himself liking Mark by the time the class was over; he didn't usually make a whole bunch of friends but there was something about this guy that Jack liked. They ended up having all the same classes and so they saw each other all day. The more they talked, the more it appeared that they had in common and the more it made Jack glad to have a friend that wasn't a poser or someone whose biggest worry was climbing the social ladder.

After school was finished, they hung out and talked until Jack got a call on his cell phone from Bobby, demanding to know where he was and why he wasn't home yet. After talking to him and trying to calm him down, he hung up and turned to Mark.

"Guess I gotta go," he said, pocketing the cell phone with an annoyed sigh.

"Your dad?"

Jack shook his head. "My brother."

Mark nodded in understanding. "I know how that is."

"Yeah," Jack replied. "Anyway. I better get going. See you later."

Mark watched as Jack walked away. When he was sure Jack was out of earshot, he took his phone from his pocket and pressed the first number on the speed dial. It rang six times before a gruff voice answered. Mark stiffened at the voice immediately.

"I did it," he said. "Yes, I—no I swear. I'm not lying. I really did talk to him and I think—I think he's my friend."

Mark listened for a while before he answered again.

"Yeah, I know. Okay. Yes I'll be home soon."

As he hung up, he felt a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He fingered the silver cross around his neck and prayed once again that he would have the strength to go through with this.

…

**A/N: **Okay! And there you have it. I hope it's good and I hope it makes sense. I hope you guys liked it. Anyway, please review and tell me what you thought. Thanks! -Addie


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews! I will update as often as I can! Anyway, here is chapter 2.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Four Brothers or anything else I should mention that I obviously don't own.

**Note: **Again, I'm not entirely sure what music Jack would like. Specific bands anyway. So I'm sticking to Metallica for now because that's one I know lol. Anyone got any suggestions of bands his character would like or listen to so I don't continually write about Metallica?

…

**Chapter Two:**

"This stuff is fucking boring," Bobby muttered, examining a lace napkin sample thing that Camille had brought home from the store. He threw it back in the pile of other lace-type things and sat back in his chair. "Do you really need all this shit, Jer?"

Jerry shrugged but didn't answer. He was busy flipping through a tuxedo magazine to even look up at Bobby. The whole dining room table was completely covered with countless wedding magazines, material samples, pamphlets and business cards. The last hour and a half was spent leafing through magazines and trying to decide on everything from theme colours to what kind of food to have.

Correction—the last hour and a half was spent doing all that by Camille, Sofi and Evelyn. Bobby, Angel and Jerry sat around the table looking as bored as can be. Jerry, at least, was trying to make an effort by looking at tuxedos. Angel was silent most of the time, growing more and more fearful as Sofi's eyes continued to glow with excitement at all this wedding planning. All this made Bobby sure that he was never going to get married or that if, for some insane reason, he did end up getting married, it would be in a quick and easy place in Vegas.

"No, fucking seriously," Bobby said, pushing a stack of magazines away from him. "This is horrible."

Jerry finally looked up from his magazine. "Calm down, Bobby. I promised Camille ya'll would help us!"

"I didn't sign up for this shit, Jerry," Bobby replied. "Look at your brother," he nodded his head towards to Angel. "He's fucking shell-shocked by all this wedding shit." He picked up a magazine and threw it at Angel's head. It seemed to snap him out of his state.

"Ow, Bobby, what the fuck, man?"

The women looked up from the other end of the table at Angel's loud outburst. Up until this point, they had been engrossed in their discussion of bridesmaid's dresses.

"I know you boys are probably bored," Evelyn began. "But—"

"Bored doesn't cover it, Ma," Bobby said, not letting her finish. "We don't do this stuff. Jackie's more the type for this girlie shit." He looked at the clock then, raising his eye-brows when he realized the time. "Where is the little fairy anyway?"

"Yes," Evelyn said, a worried expression forming on her face. "Shouldn't he have been home an hour ago?"

Bobby stood. "No, it's okay, Ma. The scatterbrained fairy probably lost track of time. We'll find him." He motioned for Jerry and Angel to follow him into the kitchen.

"What gives, Bobby?" Jerry asked when they were out of earshot of the women. "You've been on top of Jack all week."

"Yeah," Angel said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "Since when do you care when he doesn't come home right away?"

Bobby sighed. He figured he should tell them now—he didn't before because he figured he could handle it himself. He quickly gave his brothers the nutshell version of what Jack had told him. Jack hadn't seen the black car following him since he had confided in Bobby but that didn't necessarily mean it had stopped for good.

"So, who's this car that's been following him?" Jerry asked after Bobby had finished speaking.

"If I fucking knew that, Jerry," Bobby said with an annoyed expression, "we wouldn't be talking about it!"

"How about Julian Connors?" Angel suggested after a few seconds of silence had passed between them.

Bobby thought about it for a moment. "Yeah. I guess." He scowled. "I fucking hate that guy."

"But he is good at finding people," Angel said and Bobby rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Call him then, Angel."

"What about Jack?" Jerry asked, nodding towards the clock. "Where do you think he is?"

"Probably at his new little boyfriend's house," Bobby replied, walking over the fridge and grabbing a beer. He threw one to Angel and Jerry. "One of you fucks go get your little sister."

Jerry placed his unopened beer on the counter and began to back away from his brothers and towards the door. "Sorry, Bobby but I gotta help Camille…." And with that, he was gone, back to the land of wedding planning.

Bobby turned his gaze to Angel, raising his eye-brows expectantly.

"Oh Bobby, come on, man…"

"Just go fucking get the fairy," Bobby said, downing half his beer. "Take la vida loca with you."

"Don't call her that," Angel said and scowled. "Fine I'll go pick him up. Where the hell does this kid live anyway?"

"Ma knows, go fucking ask her," Bobby replied, giving Angel a little push out of the kitchen. He laughed as Angel shot a death glare his way.

Bobby chuckled to himself as he watched Angel tell Sofi he'd be back soon and then leave the house with a sullen expression on his face. He downed the rest of his beer and grabbed his jacket from the kitchen chair and left from the back door. Pausing on the porch, he quickly scanned his eyes over the backyard. Shrugging, he continued on his way.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

…

"You're crazy, man!"

Jack smirked. "I am not! I'm right. And you know it."

Mark shook his head and threw his pillow at Jack who was sitting in the desk chair. Jack ducked and the pillow knocked over the desk lamp. The old black lamp hit the ground and the light bulb shattered. The two looked at each other for a few seconds with bewildered expressions until Mark shrugged and waved it off.

"I'll get that later," he said. "Now seriously, are you fucking nuts? _Enter Sandman _is ten times better than _One._ Hands down. I don't even know why we're having this conversation!"

"We're having this conversation," Jack said with a roll of his eyes, "because you won't let it go. _One _is much better musically."

"Dude!" Mark was not having it. He grew more animated as the conversation continued and waved his hands wildly to make his point. "I don't care that you play guitar; it doesn't mean you are knowledgeable in music! I'm telling you, _Enter Sandman _is the supreme song. It's just….it's-oh I know what I'm talking about!"

Jack outright chuckled this time. "This coming from the guy with the Barbara Streisand CD…."

"Hey man, I told you, that CD isn't mine!"

"Right."

Both boys tried to hold their smiles from each other but both failed after only a few seconds and they burst into loud laughter. Their friendship had moulded quickly over the past week; they seemed to share the same interests in almost everything but music was the sole thing that seemed to have brought them together. It would seem that they were almost inseparable. At school, they were constantly together and almost every day after school for the past week, they got together. One seeing them for the first time would most surely come to the conclusion that they had been friends all their lives.

Of course, this resulted in endless teasing from Bobby. Constant allusions were made to Jack's "boyfriend" or Jack's "little friend." Jack did his best to ignore Bobby like usual but there were times where it got too much and he would storm off in anger. He always regretted doing that because Bobby would call him a princess after. He sighed internally as thought about it. He wasn't going to let Bobby bother him; not about this. Jack was happy to finally have a friend who he could hang out with and talk to; someone that actually understood what he liked instead of insulting it. Lord he knew he didn't want to hang out with his brothers for the rest of his life.

"Jack? Hello?"

Jack snapped out of his reverie just then. He gave Mark an apologetic smile. "Sorry man," he said. "I was just thinking."

"So," Mark said, nodding towards Jack's cell phone that sat on the desk, "I'm surprised your brother didn't call you yet."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah I know. I'm surprised he isn't banging down the door looking for me."

"Why is he constantly on you?" Mark asked, cocking his head to the side. His expression was confused as if a protective older brother was a foreign concept to him.

"I don't know," Jack said with a shrug. "I'm the youngest so I guess he thinks I need to be constantly watched. Like I might get kidnapped or walk off a cliff if I'm left alone." A look of distain mixed with slight anger crossed his face. It was a look usually only adopted by one of the young ones in a family; one who felt smothered by being constantly overprotected and worried about. "Curse of being the youngest, I guess," Jack said finally with a sigh, the expression leaving his face.

Anyone looking closely at Mark could see jealousy flash in his eyes for the briefest of moments as Jack was speaking. But Jack was looking at his hands while he spoke and didn't notice anything. Before Mark could say anything, the sound of the doorbell ringing reverberated through the house. Both of them stood and looked down from Mark's bedroom window. Jack grimaced when he saw who was out the door.

"It figures!" Jack said in an annoyed tone. "Speaking of one of the fuckin' devils."

"Who's that?" Mark asked as Jack began to grab all of his belongings.

"My brother," Jack replied. He and Mark left the room and made their way downstairs. Just as they reached the landing, the doorbell rang again. It seemed to piss Jack off more.

Mark looked confused. "But he's-well, I don't want to sound-umm-"

"We're adopted," Jack offered in explanation as he pulled on his converse shoes.

"Oh, okay, cool," Mark said, nodding in understanding. "How many do you have?"

"Three," Jack said. He was in the process of getting into his leather jacket as Mark opened the door.

"Come on Jackie," Angel said. He looked bored and not happy that he had to be the one to pick Jack up. _Fuckin' Bobby, _he thought to himself. "Hurry up," Angel said before turning and walking down the steps.

"Sorry." Jack turned to Mark and shrugged. "I gotta go now."

"See you tomorrow!"

Jack nodded in reply and then walked down the steps to meet Angel. He didn't say anything as they walked away from the house. Mark stood there watching them for a few moments before shutting the door. He slumped against the door, letting out a sigh so deep that he thought his chest would crack open. The guilt he had grew everyday and he felt it burn in his stomach. It seemed to grow worse with each passing day. He hated doing this and wished he didn't have to. He really did like Jack. After all, Jack was the only friend he ever had. Sighing again, he pushed himself away from the door, preparing to go back to his room.

_It'll be over soon, _he told himself though it was no consolation.

A door creaking open suddenly caught him off guard and he spun around, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He locked eyes with his older brother who was just closing the basement door behind him.

"I—I didn't know you were home," Mark stammered nervously. "I didn't-I thought you were out."

"I wanted to make sure you were doing your job properly," was his brother's reply. His voice was gravelly and had an edge to it like he was always one step away from ripping your throat out. Mark should have been used to it by now but it still gave him chills.

His brother walked forward and for a second, the light from the window hit the side of his face and caused his scar to glow. It was a long, jagged line that began at the corner of his eyes and ended at the middle of his cheek. The scar had always scared Mark; his brother told him that he had gotten it in bar fight. Mark tried not to look at it.

"Well then," his brother said, taking another step forward. He was getting closer to Mark. "Are you doing your job properly?"

"I am," Mark said with more confidence than he felt. "I swear! It's just-" He stopped himself. He didn't want to start anything.

But it was too late.

"What?"

"No, nothing," Mark said quickly. He began to back away into the small living room. It was cramped; it only had a couch, two chairs, a broken table and an old TV set. Mark didn't have much space to move around.

"Oh no, NO!" his brother said loudly, slamming his hand against the wall and causing Mark to jump. "You were fucking saying something! What is it?" A sudden knowing expression crossed his features and he shook his head. "You are having second thoughts aren't you?"

"No I…."

"Aren't you, you little shit?" he said, this time more forcefully. He took a step towards Mark.

In spite of himself, Mark nodded. "I'm sorry, I just-do we really have to do this? I really like Jack. He's—he's my friend." He nervously pulled at the silver cross around his neck. By the way his brother's eyes darkened, he knew he would need some sort of divine protection.

"What happened to _'I won't fail you' _and _'I know exactly what to do'_?" the older brother spat angrily. He began to pace, throwing his hands up in the air as he spoke. His voice rose higher as he became angrier. "I knew you would fucking crack! You are a weak little shit!" He didn't give Mark a chance; he backhanded him causing him to fall to the ground.

"No! I'm sorry! I didn't—"

Mark was cut off when his brother kicked him in the ribs, hard. He gasped for air and held his stomach. He looked up at his brother and saw only pure anger and hate radiating from him. His brother was screaming curses and kicking him over and over again. Mark's screams of pain did nothing to stop him. He should have known this was coming. He wished he could have just kept his mouth shut. Finally, his brother did stop, having grown tired. It was completely silent, save for Mark's whimpers of pain and his brother's laboured breathing.

"You listen to me," the older of the two said, looking down at Mark. "I never want to hear you say what you said ever again. Do you understand?"

Mark nodded quickly. He had to force away the tears that threatened to fall. He wasn't allowed to cry. Crying showed weakness and weakness wasn't allowed in his brother's house. With a sudden swift movement, he was picked up from the ground and thrown into the nearest chair.

"Remember," his brother said, standing in front of him. He tore the front of his white t-shirt open suddenly and easily as if he was ripping paper. He pointed to the letters tattooed on his chest. "What does it say?"

Mark looked at the tattoo. He had seen it many times and practically had each intricate detail memorized. His brother made him go when he had it tattooed. Mark had to sit by him for six hours and watch as the two words were permanently drawn on his brother's skin. He was always reminded of the tattoo when his brother felt that he had forgotten or lost sight of what he called their "mission."

"What does it say?" his brother repeated and slapped him for not answering fast enough.

"_Ultionem Fraternae_," Mark said quietly. He didn't even have to look at it. He had memorized the words long ago.

"And what does that mean?"

Mark sighed before meeting his brother's gaze dead on. "Revenge for a brother," he whispered quietly.

"Good. You remember that next time when you decide to question the mission."

And with that, his brother turned and left. Mark slumped low in the chair and wished for a moment that he could cry. But that was something he had forgotten how to do a long time ago.

…

Jack walked home from school slowly the next day. He was still pissed off at Bobby. When Angel came to get him from Mark's house, he didn't say one word. It was fine for Angel; he was already mad that he was sent to get Jack. Jack didn't expect Angel to say anything to him anyway. But when Bobby returned home after dinner, he definitely had something to say. He cornered Jack in is room and bawled him out for not coming home after school or not calling to say where he was. Bobby had told him that if he didn't come home right after school the next day he would _"come and find you and drag you home by your fucking pixie hair!" _

At sixteen years old, all Jack wanted was a little independence. He spent the past few years being protected and watched over by his three brothers and he was beginning to grow sick of it. Evelyn worried for him too but at least she let him leave the house without giving him the third degree. Bobby, on the other hand, was something else. He was worried that something would happen to him—more so now that Jack had told him that a car followed him. The rational part of him knew that he was being stupid and that he was lucky to have people that cared about him enough to worry. But stubbornness always prevailed and his anger continued to boil inside of him as he walked home.

He was angry also because he was looking forward to going to the record store with Mark. They had made plans to go two days ago and Jack was excited. He loved going to the little shop and looking through the mass amounts of vinyl records they had. Some dated back to as early as the 1950s. But, thanks to Bobby, his plans were dashed. He sucked in a lungful of air and then slowly exhaled; calming himself with the thought that one day he'd go off to New York alone to pursue his music career. That was about as alone as you could get. He couldn't wait.

A sudden feeling of being watched swept over him and he slowly turned to look behind him. Sure enough, a good way up the block but still visible was the black car with tinted windows that had been following him a week ago. Fear filled him immediately and he felt his heart start to beat faster. He looked up and down the street and silently cursed to himself when he realized that he was the only one there. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. His started to grab for his cell phone, so that he could call Bobby but he stopped.

_No, _he thought stubbornly. _I don't need Bobby. I can handle this myself._

Calmly, he kept walking as if he was oblivious of the car that was slowly inching forward with every step that he took. For another painstaking five minutes, it remained like this; Jack walking and the car creeping at a snail's pace behind him. Once he reached the end of the street, he turned right, instead of turning left onto his street, and quickly ducked into the convenience store. He bought a pack of cigarettes and a Coke so he wouldn't look suspicious to the shopkeeper and when he exited the store again, the black car was nowhere in sight. With a sigh of relief, he began to walk towards home.

_See, I can take of myself, _he thought as he walked home.

…

"The fairy princess arrives!" Bobby said, putting down his newspaper and chuckling as Jack walked into the house. Angel, who was sitting next to Bobby, joined in the laughter.

Jack just scowled and began to make his way up to his room. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He was angry from the previous day and more than shaken up from being followed again. He had decided as he walked home that he wasn't going to mention it. He was sure that he had taken care of it—for now at least.

"Hey Jackie, wait!" Bobby called before Jack had fully made it up the stairs. "Come here for a second."

Jack cursed under his breath and turned back down the stairs. He leaned against the doorway to the living room and waited. He was starting to feel tired and he just wanted to crash for a few hours before dinner. But something on Bobby's face told him he wouldn't get to do that just yet.

"You gotta unload the dishwasher," Bobby said. Jack could swear he was smirking a bit.

"Bobby!" he exclaimed with his eyes widened. "You were home all day. Why didn't you do it?"

"Cause, princess, it was waiting for you," Bobby said with a grin. "Now get to it. Me and Angel have something to take care of. Tell Ma we'll be home before dinner." Bobby stood and looked down at Angel. "Let's go!"

Angel seemed enticed by the TV. "Wait I wanna see what happens—"

"Oh get the fuck over it!" Bobby said, pulling Angel up by the arm and giving him shove towards the door. "The broad takes her clothes off then the ship sinks and everyone dies. The end."

"All right, all right, I'm going!" Angel said. "Fuck, Bobby."

"Go do the dishwasher, Jackie!" Bobby said before shutting the door behind him.

Jack exhaled the breath he was holding in, shook his head and went to do the dishwasher.

_It never ends, _he thought to himself.

…

"He better fucking be here," Bobby said, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he and Angel stood outside the old-looking house in which Julian Connor lived.

"He said he would," Angel replied. He looked Bobby up and down and grinned. "What the hell you look so nervous for? Worried you'll run into Patricia?"

"Fuck off, Angel," Bobby said, punching his brother in the arm. "I don't give a fuck about her."

"No, but she looooooooves you," Angel laughed and ducked as Bobby took a swing at his head.

"Just ring the fucking doorbell again!"

"Okay, okay," Angel said, laughing. He pressed the button on the side of the door and then looked inside one of the windows. The house was completely dark inside. But then he saw a flicker of movement. "See, he's coming."

"Fuckin' wonderful," Bobby muttered just before the door was opened.

Julian Connors was a tall, wiry guy with puffy red hair that stuck out every which way and skin that was so white it was nearly translucent. Bobby wouldn't rule out the word vampire if asked to describe him. He blinked and shielded his eyes from the sun as if he hadn't been out in the sun for weeks. He wore a dirty red robe over a stained undershirt and boxer shorts. He gave Bobby a disdainful look but grinned when he saw Angel. They shook hands and exchanged happy greetings.

"Angel Mercer!" Julian exclaimed. His voice was slightly squeaky. "How've you been, man?"

"Can't complain," Angel replied with a shrug. "So listen, man, we need some help tracking someone down."

Julian raised his hands to stop Angel from talking. "Say no more, dude. Come in, come in!" He moved aside and let them walk into the house.

Bobby had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't say what he really thought of the house. It was dark inside and to say it was dirty and disgusting would be the biggest of understatements. The carpet that ran through the house was a dark brown and Bobby suspected that it was a different colour all together when it was first put there. Pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, cans, wrappers-you name it-littered the floor. Bobby Mercer was no clean freak but this was plain disgusting. Ignoring the mess he saw around him, he followed Julian and Angel into a kitchen that was not much cleaner. They sat around a wobbly wooden table.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Julian asked, drinking out of a cup that was once white but now was a sickly green colour. Bobby and Angel declined. "Okay then," Julian said, leaning back in his chair, "what can I do for you?"

"Our brother was followed by a car," Bobby said. "We wanna find the fucker that was following him."

Julian nodded and wrote something down in a small notepad. "What did the car look like?"

"Black. With tinted windows."

Julian raised his eye-brows. "That's it?"

"What the fuck do you mean 'that's it'?" Bobby exclaimed. He already was in a bad mood for having to come here. He wanted to smack this kid already. "I told you it was a fucking car that was following him."

"Well," Julian said, blinking his eyes at Bobby, "The type of the car would help."

"I don't know what type of fucking car it was!"

"Well then how do you expect me to find it?" Again, Julian blinked his eyes, looking at Bobby like he was stupid.

Angel saw that Bobby was getting angry and was about to snap on Julian so he intervened. "Hey listen, man," Angel said, getting Julian to focus his attention on him. "Just ask around and see what you can find. Okay?"

Julian nodded. "All right. I will try. I'll call you if anything."

"Fine. Let's go, Angel," Bobby said, standing up. The sooner he left the better. If he stayed, he might pound this Julian kid's face in. He didn't bother waiting for Angel.

"Thanks," Angel said, shaking Julian's hand. "Sorry about Bobby. You know how he gets."

"Yeah," Julian replied with a grin. He shook his head. "No offense but I fucking hate that guy."

Angel chuckled and thanked him again before leaving. Bobby was waiting in the car with the engine running when Angel came out.

"Next time we need to see him, you can go alone," Bobby said as Angel got into the car. He put the car in gear and drove off.

"He only hates you 'cause of what you did to his sister," Angel replied. He held back the urge to laugh when he saw Bobby's face.

"What _I _did to his sister?" Bobby asked incredulously. "That fucking bitch was screwing three guys behind my back! I dump her and _I'm _the bad guy?"

"Maybe if you had been a better boyfriend…."

"Angel, don't you fucking finish that sentence or I'll make you walk home."

The rest of the ride consisted of Bobby driving in silence and Angel trying to hold his laughter in.

…

_**Colorado, 1992**_

"_I don't fucking believe this!" Bobby yelled angrily, kicking the garbage can that was near him. "What the hell happened in there, man?"_

"_I'm sorry," the shorter of the two said with a reproachful look. He held a dirty rag over a cut that was near his eye and ran halfway down his face. He had received it in the bar when everything started to go bad. "It was an off night for me."_

"_Off night?" Bobby echoed. "Really? Chester—we just lost everything!"_

_Chester nodded but didn't answer. It was quiet between the pair of friends for a while. Bobby was wondering for the fifth time why he didn't just stay home instead of coming to Colorado when Chester jumped beside him. _

"_I've got an idea!" Chester said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. "Just stay here. I'll be right back!"_

_Bobby started to call after him but his friend was gone before he could even form the words. He slumped against the cold brick wall and waited. He hoped this "idea" of Chester's was going to be good. He hadn't known Chester for too long but they became fast friends when Bobby met him in a bar during his first week in Colorado. He originally came to check out the hockey scene—he heard something about a team recruiting. But he had gotten there too late and was shit out of luck. He paid the motel in advance for two months already, figuring he'd make it on the hockey team. The motel people didn't care for his problems and wouldn't give him his money back. So he had met Chester one night and they became friends—hustling pool to make money. And they were really good at it; sometimes making as much as $800 a night._

_But tonight things had gone wrong. Rumour was a high stakes pool game was going on and that the winnings could total out to a few thousand. Problem was you needed $1000 to begin with. Chester had heard of a bookie/drug dealer named Marco Campanetti who "loaned" people money—as long as they paid it back almost as quick as they took it. So Bobby and Chester borrowed $1000 from Marco with promises that they would pay it back after they won. But they had gotten in way over their heads and quickly found out that they weren't as good as they thought. Within the first half hour, they lost everything they had. And they promised to pay Marco back that same night._

_Bobby didn't know how the hell he got himself into such a stupid situation. He could just imagine his mother's face if she knew what he was doing. It made him feel guiltier than he already felt._

"_Bobby!"_

_Bobby snapped out of his thoughts and saw an excited Chester running towards him. He felt hope fill him for the first time that night. _

"_Marco has a way for us to pay off the $1000!" Chester said with a happy smile on his face. Bobby felt relief flow through him. But it didn't last long._

"_What do we have to do?" he asked._

"_Well you know that Marco-," Chester began. He looked back and forth; making sure no one was around. When he was satisfied no one was in earshot, he turned back to Bobby. "You know that Marco deals right?"_

"_Oh fuck, no," Bobby said, understanding instantly. "I'm not going to fucking do that!"_

"_Come on!" Chester said, jumping up and down with excitement. "It'll be cool!"_

"_Cool?" Bobby raised his eye-brows incredulously. "Selling drugs is not 'cool'!" _

"_Okay, okay," Chester replied, putting up his hands in surrender. "But Marco said if we sell his new shipment in one week, he'll clear our debt. For good! No catch; nothing!"_

_Bobby thought about it for a moment before sighing in defeat. What other choice did he have? If he wanted to make it out of Colorado without an angry drug dealer chasing him, he had to. Even if it was against everything he believed in._

"_Fuck it. Fine. Let's do it!"_

"_Yes!" Chester said; a smile on his face. "It'll be fine, Bobby, you'll see!" He checked his watch and then swore. "I gotta go meet Sid! I'll see you later, Bobby!"_

_Bobby nodded and watched Chester go. He couldn't believe what he just agreed to do. He hated drugs; he hated the effect they had on people. He'd seen too many people die from drug overdoses and he wasn't too keen on being a part of that world. But sometimes in life, you have to do things you don't like to survive. It'll be okay, he reasoned. I'll just sell this and go home and forget about all of this. _

_Besides, if he just sold and did what he had to, what could go wrong?_

…

**A/N: **So can you tell I'm the youngest of my family? lol. And yeah I have no idea why I decided to throw in a Titanic reference. Love that movie! Anyway….Thanks for reading and please review to tell me what you thought! Until next time…. -Addie


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Thank you again and again for your reviews, they make my day! I'm really excited for this story and I have it all planned out so I hope to finish it! Here is the (hopefully) much awaited chapter 3!

**Disclaimer: **Do not own Four Brothers or its characters or anything else I should happen to mention that is obviously not mine.

…

**Chapter Three:**

_"Sorry kid, the price is $300 for the half pound."_

_Bobby watched as the little druggie kid's face fell. He didn't look much older than 15 or 16 but already he had the look of an addict so far gone he might as well be dead already. It made Bobby sick to see it, especially when he thought that this could be him or Jerry or Angel if their lives had taken a different path. Selling this shit to teenagers was like assisting them down the path of no return and Bobby hated being a part of it. But then again, he had no choice._

_"Aww man," the kid said, his voice low. "Are you sure? I-I need it, man."_

_"I'm sure," Bobby replied hurriedly. All he wanted to do was finish the last sale of the night and get out of there._

_The kid stood there for a while, staring blankly at Bobby. Finally, he heaved a great sigh like it was a bother to be there and took a wad of bills from his pocket. He handed it over to Bobby who quickly counted it. Satisfied at the amount, Bobby handed the kid the drugs and watched him take off like a shot down the alley. Sighing and then cursing to himself, Bobby leaned against the brick wall and waited for Chester._

_"Bobby!" came the happy voice of his friend not ten minutes later._

_Chester walked quickly to Bobby, whistling happily as he flipped through the bills in his hand. An outside observer would swear he had just won a poker game or something and not that he had just been selling drugs to kids._

_"Hey dude!" he said once he reached Bobby. He waved the bills in the air. "Look how much I made!"_

_"Wonderful," Bobby replied tiredly. Chester frowned at his tone._

_"Aren't you happy? We're killing at this!"_

_Bobby didn't answer. Chester shrugged and went back to counting his bills. It was quiet as this went on. Bobby wasn't happy with himself and so he brooded over his guilt in silence. Chester was too self-absorbed and happy to notice or care. In what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a few minutes, a third person joined them._

_"Hey guys!"_

_Bobby snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the kid approach. He couldn't help but smile when he saw him. Sid was Chester's younger brother and often hung out with them. Bobby felt like Sid was another one of his brothers after spending so much time with him._

_"How's it going, Sid?" Bobby asked, lightly punching him the arm._

_Sid shrugged. He was your run-of-the-mill, average teenager with floppy brown hair and an infectious grin. Chester had quickly stuffed the money in his pocket at the sight of his younger brother. His expression changed from happy-go-lucky to protective older brother in a matter of seconds._

_"Sid, it's late!" Chester said, his eye-brows knit in worry. "What are you doing out?"_

_"I was with my friends," Sid replied and hopped up on a crate. He swung his legs as he spoke. "I just left them. I was on my way home and I wanted to come see what you guys were up to."_

_"Well you should be home now," Chester said. "Who's watching the kid?"_

_"Mrs. Wilson next door," Sid answered. "She checks in on him every once in a while."_

_Chester nodded. "All right. But still-you should get home. I'm coming soon."_

_Sid sighed and jumped off the crate. His smile never faded. "Whatever you say, big bro!"_

_Chester chuckled and ruffled his hair. He gave him a little push. "Get outta here, kid!"_

_"Bye Bobby!" Sid called as he turned out of the alley._

_Bobby chuckled as he bade farewell to Sid. He turned to Chester. "He's a good kid."_

_"Yeah," Chester agreed with a proud smile that only an older brother could have. "He's a real good kid. Helps take care of our younger brother since our parents died."_

_Bobby nodded in understanding. Again, a silence fell between them. It was a comfortable one this time; each man thinking thoughts of their families._

…

"Yeah, see you later, dude."

Mark watched as Jack disappeared around the corner before turning and walking towards home. He felt himself wanting to go there less and less and he would purposely do things to waste time and prolong going home. Jack couldn't do much after school anymore and when he could, they always went to Mark's house. When asking Jack if they could hang at his house one time, he just shrugged and said he didn't want to deal with his brother teasing him. Mark's own brother was on him all the time to stick to the mission, to keep doing what's right, to make him proud. Just that morning, before he had left for school, his brother took the opportunity to remind him again.

"_You know what to do?"_

_Mark nodded stiffly. "Yes, yes. I know."_

"_I'm not seeing any results," his brother had said, cornering him at the front door. "You've only become friends with the kid. You need to do more or this is never going to work!"_

"_I'm trying," Mark replied, looking down. He wanted to succeed for his brother; Lord knew he grew up brainwashed by his brother's want for revenge. But he couldn't block out the guilt that his brother didn't seem to feel. He felt it enough for the both of them anyhow. But no matter how his conscience screamed at him, he couldn't go against his brother._

"_Not hard enough," his brother said, narrowing his eyes. "I want you to alienate him, to make sure his-brothers are fed up with him. Only then can we act. Here, this should help." His brother grabbed his hand and put a small bag into it. _

_Mark looked down at the bag and forced himself not to grimace. "You—you want me to give this to him?"_

"_Yeah, I do. Can you fucking do that?"_

_Mark nodded. "I won't fail you, Chester."_

After a few more reassurances, his brother let him go. He tried multiple times throughout the day to give Jack what his brother gave him that morning, but each time he tried, his brain failed him and he couldn't get the words out. Then he rationed that after school would be the best time. But he got tongue-tied again and Jack practically rushed off, saying something or other about "showing them". And now Mark was hesitant to go home. After all, he had promised his brother he wouldn't fail and yet here he was, dwelling in the land of failing. He tried to keep the thoughts of what his brother would do to him out of his mind as he walked, instead keeping himself happy by imaging what it would be like if he were another person.

…

It was really cold outside; cold enough that you could see your breath rise and disappear into the air when you exhaled. But Jack didn't mind the cold. In fact, he would even go as far as saying that he liked it. Many years of being locked outside in the frigid winter air by one of his many foster parents long ago left him immune to the effects of Mother Nature.

So as he sat on top of the monkey bars in the empty park, his long legs dangling down, Jack wasn't worrying about the cold then. His mind was focused more on himself and his problems. He mulled over how he felt so much anger lately; anger that increased rapidly with each passing day. It was highly uncharacteristic for him and he knew it.

In his own way, he thought he was rebelling by not going home; by worrying his family so much they almost went crazy. The little voice in his head nagged him to stop acting like a child, to go home and deal with it and get on with his life. He hated making his mother worry and usually his brothers. But it felt like they were purposely smothering him and this was the only way he felt was sufficient for getting back at them.

Evelyn would be disappointed, Jerry would try and talk to him and see what was bothering him. Angel would shake his head and probably complain about Jack being "a stupid teenager." And Bobby? Bobby would kill him. Bobby might actually and quite literally kill him.

Jack tore open a newly bought pack of cigarettes and hastily lit one. As he slowly blew out the smoke, he realized that he didn't care. _"Let Bobby worry,"_ he thought to himself half-bitterly. He was in no mood to be the quiet and sensitive Jack Mercer. After a few more long drags, his cigarette was finished and he dropped it onto the growing pile of cigarette butts on the ground.

The sudden shrill ring of his cell phone startled him and he jumped slightly. He took it from his pocket and stared at the little screen.

_"Home Calling"_

And so it began...

Jack placed the balanced the phone on one of the bars and watched it until it finally stopped ringing. It would keep ringing and ringing as his family kept calling him. He didn't plan on answering.

Jack leaned back a little and after balancing himself, lit another cigarette. He took one of the two beers of Bobby's he swiped this morning out of his bag and opened it. When his phone rang a second time, he didn't even hear it.

…

A little before seven that night, a small blue car stopped in front of the Mercer house. Inside the car, Angel leaned in and kissed Sofi. She squealed happily. Much to Angel's dismay, she had been in a good mood for the past couple of days. It wasn't the happy mood itself that caused Angel to act with great trepidation but rather the thing that was causing her happiness. Helping plan for Jerry and Camille's wedding had set something off inside of her and now marriage was something she'd talk about constantly.

"So I was thinking about Camille's dress," she was saying as Angel stared forlornly out the window. "It's so beautiful! Don't you think I'd look good in a wedding dress, baby? Angel?" When he didn't answer, she hit his arm. "Angel!"

He snapped to attention and turned to look at her. "What? Oh yeah, baby, sure." She pouted and crossed her arms. He could see her mood shifting quickly. "No, really," he said. "You'd-uh-what were you talking about?"

Sofi huffed in response and turned away from him. Angel rolled his eyes and let a deep sigh escape him. He didn't need to deal with this shit now. Lately, he felt himself becoming fed up easily; with his life, with everything. Sure, he had a job but it wasn't what he wanted. There was something tugging at him inside; he wanted more. There was something he had to do to feel that sense of accomplishment and completion. He just didn't know what it was yet.

"Come on, baby," he said, trying to get Sofi to look at him. She slapped his hand away and told him where to go in a few not so nice Spanish words.

After a few unsuccessful tries, he got fed up, shook his head, and got out of the car. She sped off before he could even think of saying anything.

"Well fuck you too then," he muttered to himself as he pushed open the front door and walked inside.

Bobby was already behind him before he fully had time to shit the front door. His face fell when he saw Angel.

"Oh. It's just you."

"Gee thanks, man," Angel said with a roll of his eyes. He followed Bobby into the living room. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Jack," Bobby said as if it explained everything. Evelyn came into the room them, looking at Bobby expectantly. He just shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't like this," Evelyn said. Worry was all over her face and the dish towel in her hands was practically worn to shreds from the way she had been twisting it. "I'm calling the police," she said finally, walking towards the phone.

Bobby stood to block her. "No, Ma, wait."

"Bobby, you said that an hour ago," she replied. "And he hasn't shown up yet. Something could have happened to him."

"I know." Bobby's jaw was set tight; half with worry and half with anger. Something could have happened to Jack, especially taking into consideration the car that had followed him home. But Bobby knew his brother. "He's fine," Bobby said curtly. "He's doing this on purpose."

"Bobby," Evelyn said her hand on his shoulder. "You can't possibly know that."

"Oh I know. We had a fight this morning. The little fairy was fucking pissed at me."

"Okay, hold on," Angel broke in before Evelyn could answer Bobby. He had been silent through their whole exchange. "Jack's missing? He didn't come home at all?"

"No," Bobby answered. He clenched his fists at his sides. "I know he's doing this on purpose. And we're gonna find him and drag his ass back here." He moved forward to grab the phone and dialled quickly. "Jer? Bobby. Listen, Jack is fucking missing. No I'm pretty sure he's just hiding somewhere to piss us off. I need you to come here and-"

Bobby was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. All eyes turned their gaze towards the living room door. A few seconds later, Jack came into to view. He stood there awkwardly, knowing exactly what he had caused but trying to hold his ground. Evelyn ran to him, hugging him and asking him where he had been; she chastised him for making them worry but then hugged him again, relieved that he was all right.

Bobby was frozen for a few seconds. "Never mind, Jerry, he's here." He hung up the phone and threw it onto the couch with enough force that it bounced off and hit the ground with a thud.

"Bobby..." Evelyn began, seeing the anger start to rise in her older son.

"No," he said, cutting her off. He glared at his younger brother with such rage that Jack had to look away. "Oh no no, you fucking look at me." When Jack reluctantly looked up, Bobby walked forward a few steps. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You like making people worry? Look at your mother! You like making her think something happened to you?"

Jack glanced at Evelyn and then looked back to Bobby. He felt tears burn his eyes and he blinked them back. He felt horrible for making his mother worry. What was wrong with him? Something must be to make him do something like this. But the look on Bobby's face cause anger to stir inside him once more. Bobby was looking at him like he was just a stupid kid; like he couldn't handle himself. He was a Mercer after all wasn't he? He looked at his older brother dead on and didn't say anything.

"Come on, Bobby," Angel said, moving forward to pull his brother back. Bobby shoved him away.

"Okay, boys, that's enough," Evelyn said, standing between them. "Bobby, your brother's home and he's safe. That's all that matters now."

Angel tried pulling Bobby back again. Bobby shoved him a little harder. "Come on, man!"

"No fucking way," Bobby growled in reply, his eyes on Jack. "This little shit has gone too far this time!"

"Fuck you, Bobby," Jack said, his voice only above a whisper. He was surprised when he heard himself say it. For a second, he hoped no one had heard him. But judging by the look on Bobby's face, he realized they all had heard him.

"What did you just say to me?" Bobby's voice was low and dangerous. Jack resisted the urge to flinch. He knew Bobby's temper well but he had never seen him like this and it scared him. But he was angry too and he had to finish what he started.

Clearing his throat and taking a breath he said, "Fuck. You." This time, it was more than loud enough.

"Fuck me?" Bobby's expression flickered from angry to livid to dangerous. The devil himself would be afraid of Bobby just then. "Fuck me?"

Bobby lunged forward suddenly and grabbed Jack by the collar of his leather jacket. Evelyn and Angel were on either side of him, trying to pull him away. Jack was completely past scared. He didn't like being touched in the first place and this made him more frightened than he had been in a very long time. His hands were on Bobby's, trying to get him to let go.

"Jack," Bobby said with his teeth clenched. "You better get the fuck out of my sight before I rip your fucking head off!"

With that, he let go and Jack went flying backwards onto the ground. He looked up at Bobby with such fear in his eyes and his expression was that of betrayal. Bobby realized what he had done and his expression softened. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Jack had fled up the stairs and the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberated throughout the house.

"Bobby..."

Bobby looked at his mother for a moment. He saw her shocked expression and already felt the guilt swirling inside of him. He grabbed his jacket and left before he could be stopped. Angel stood silently, unsure of what to do. Evelyn put a hand on his shoulder and though she was shaken up, gave him a reassuring smile.

"Bobby'll come back when he's ready," she said. She turned her gaze towards the stairs. "I'll go up and talk to Jack."

Angel watched his mother disappear upstairs before collapsing onto the couch. He felt drained of all his energy. Sometimes life in the Mercer house was too crazy to describe.

…

Jack fell back onto his bed as soon as he slammed the door. His heart was still racing as fear coursed through his body. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down; breathing in and out, in and out. Seeing Bobby so angry had shaken him up so much so that he was shaking himself. It was a well known fact that Bobby was an angry person and that he could get mad at the drop of a hat. Jack had heard many stories of Bobby's anger and what he had done to people; hell, Jack even saw some of his anger firsthand but never, not once had Bobby directed such anger at one of his brothers.

It scared him more than anything had in a long time. He always felt safe in his home mainly due to the fact that he knew no one would ever hurt him. That was a big thing for him; to be safe and protected and not hurt especially after all he had gone through when he was younger. And he knew Bobby didn't mean to hurt him or to even scare him that bad. Jack saw the regret in his brother's eyes right after it happened. But it didn't change the fact that he was scared or that he was still anger despite everything. He was angry for being treated like a kid and he was angry at Bobby for attacking him and scaring him. He was just scared and angry and he didn't know what to do anymore. One thing was for sure, if he didn't do something soon he was sure he would snap on someone or explode.

A soft knock on the door made him open his eyes. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard.

"Come in," he said softly. He couldn't help but smile a little when Evelyn walked into the room. The Mercer brothers had a soft spot for their mother. Even Bobby was a completely different person around her.

Evelyn sat at the edge of the bed and gave him a warm smile. "Jackie?"

"I'm sorry," Jack said. He looked down, not able to meet her eyes. Maybe he was still angry with Bobby but he felt like a horrible person for making his mother worry.

"It's okay," Evelyn replied. She put her hand on his leg when he didn't look up. "Hey, come on Jackie, look at me." Jack met her gaze and he relaxed when he saw the softness in her eyes. She wasn't mad at him. "That's it," she said, her smile widening.

"I'm really sorry," he said again, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping arms around them. He looked like a vulnerable child. "I was just-I was upset."

"I know, honey." She watched him sit like that for a while, lost in his own world. His mind was no doubt replaying the night's events over and over. She hated to see him look so scared and helpless. "You know Bobby didn't mean to hurt you," she said after a long silence.

Jack broke from his daydreams to look at her. He just shrugged. He tried to keep an indifferent look but it was no use around her. His face was like an open book when she was near. You could never hide anything from Evelyn Mercer.

"I thought he was going to kill me," Jack said after another period of silence. "I knew he'd be mad but I didn't think he'd be like that."

"He was really worried," Evelyn said with a smile. "Even if he didn't show it. He really does care, Jack."

Jack nodded but didn't answer. Evelyn knew not to push him; if Jack didn't want to talk then it was best to not force him to. Evelyn stood and made her way over to him. She hugged him and kissed his forehead.

"You get some sleep now," she said with a smile. "Everything will be better in the morning."

He nodded and gave her his best smile. She wished him goodnight and left, closing the door softly behind her. For the second time that night, he stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes. He felt much calmer now, even though the anger he always seemed to be feeling lately was there inside of him. All he wanted to do now was drift into sleep and forget all that had happened that day. It wasn't that late, hardly time to go to bed but sleep was an escape and it was exactly what he needed. In a few seconds, he had already drifted off.

A guitar riff ripped through the air and Jack sprang up in surprise. He grabbed for his phone and flipped it open.

"Yeah, hello?"

"_Hey Jack! It's me. Mark."_

"Oh," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. He looked at the clock. He'd only been asleep less than half an hour. "Hey man."

"_Listen dude," Mark said. He sounded a bit excited. "You wanna do something?"_

"Now?"

"_No, yesterday. No shit, now!"_

"I don't know—" Jack began, thinking of all he had caused by coming home so late. He didn't want a repeat of the incident. "My brother kinda freaked on me tonight."

"_What? How come?"_

"I went to the park," Jack offered in explanation. "I didn't come home until half an hour ago. He almost fucking killed me."

For the next few moments, only silence passed between them. Jack didn't want to talk about what happened; thinking about it just made him angry and scared all over again.

"_Well then," Mark said finally. "All the more reason to go out!" When Jack didn't answer, he said, "Come on, Jack! Show some fucking spine! Don't let your brother scare you. Stick it to him, man! Come on, I've got something to show you!"_

"You know what?" Jack said, thinking about everything that Mark just said. "You are absolutely right. Where do you wanna meet?"

…

"Jack! Jeez, man, how long does it take?"

"Sorry," Jack said with a shrug as he sat next to Mark on the curb. They were in front of the school. Everything was dark save for the street lights. "Why are we here?"

Mark shrugged. "It's in the middle of both our houses." He looked around and tightened his jacket around himself. "Pretty empty, isn't it? Hey, how did you get out of the house?"

"Window."

"No shit? Cool!"

Jack nodded but didn't say anything. He wasn't in the mood to talk then so he just sat and let Mark do all the talking. He still felt kind of bad for sneaking out of the house after having had a talk with his mother. She had been kind and understanding as usual and his leaving was just another "fuck you" gesture. He had, however, taken time to make it look like he was sleeping in his bed so that if she should happen to look in, she wouldn't notice he was gone. Jack shook his thoughts away and looked at Mark who was taking a little tin case from his pocket.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked, nodding towards the box.

"The little 'something' I wanted to show you."

Mark opened the small case and produced two long, hand-rolled joints. The grin on his face was wide as he handed one to Jack. Jack looked unsure but he took it anyway. He rolled it through his fingers, examining it.

"It's pot," Mark said matter-of-factly.

Jack held back a chuckle. "Yeah, I know what it is. Why are you giving it to me?"

"I thought it'd help take your mind off of shit," Mark said. "I found some of my brother's stash. He doesn't know I took it."

Jack looked at the joint in his hand. He let his mind wander as he turned it through his fingers. Part of him was telling him to just do it; to stop worrying about everything and let himself go for once. What was the harm in having a little fun now and again? Why did he always have to be nice and compliant? The rational part of his brain called him crazy and asked him what his mother would think if she knew what he was considering. But really, who would find out if he didn't say anything? What other people didn't know wasn't going to hurt them, was it? And he longed to feel detached from the world and his own problems; even if it was only for a little while. Besides, it was only marijuana. He gave up doing hardcore drugs a long time ago and he wasn't going to start that up again. But pot? When did that ever hurt anyone?

Jack held the joint between his fingers and looked at his friend. He put it between his lips, flicked open his lighter and with a smile, lit up.

…

**A/N: **Wow I feel like that took long to write. I hope it didn't suck. Did it suck? Lol, I have no faith in myself sometimes. Anyway, please please triple please review! Thanks for reading! -Addie


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Again, thanks so much for reading! I'm really glad you all like it, it's what makes me want to write more! So here it is, chapter four.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own. Only own what I've created.

…

**Chapter Four:**

**2:34 AM**

Bobby glared at the clock for what seemed like the seven-hundredth time in ten minutes. Why the hell was time passing so slowly? He felt like he had been sitting in his car for hours; parked in front of his own house, the engine of his old car idling. Should he go inside? Or should he drive off to some bar and continuing drinking the night away?

He sighed and shut off the car only to turn the key a second later. This had been going on for a while now; car on, car off, radio on, radio off-it seemed like a never-ending story. Did he want to go inside? Of course he fucking did. All he wanted was his bed and a decent night's sleep for once. But it wasn't that simple as the night's previous events proved.

"This is fucking ridiculous!"

Bobby Mercer wasn't a coward. So why the hell should he be afraid to go into his house? Not that "afraid" described his mood, really. Bottom line, and though he didn't particularly want to admit it, Bobby felt bad for doing what he did Jack. He couldn't get Jack's face out of his mind; that wide-eyed look of fear that Bobby cringed at the thought of having caused.

But Bobby couldn't sit in the car forever. That's what being in a family meant didn't it? Celebrating and praising the good times and forgiving and forgetting the bad? Besides, his head was beginning to pound from all he drank since he stormed out of the house. He decided he wasn't going to make his coming hangover worse by staying up all night, sitting in his car.

With a sigh of resignation, Bobby shut off the car and pocketed the guys as he slammed the door behind him. He strode up the walkway, marvelling at how unnaturally quiet the Detroit night was as he did. Quietly as he could, Bobby unlocked the door and stepped into the dark foyer. He was about to climb the stairs to go straight to his room when a light in the kitchen caught his attention.

Who the fuck would be up at this hour?

"Ma?" he said with surprise as he walked into the kitchen. "What are you doin' up?"

Evelyn sat at the small kitchen table in her bathrobe, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. She smiled softly at him and patted the chair to her left. Bobby hesitated for a few seconds before shrugging out of his jacket and sitting down. It was like that for a few moments; Evelyn patiently waiting as Bobby stared at his hands before him. Finally, she put her hand over his. He looked up at her.

"Bobby," she began. He searched for disappointment in her face but found none; only love. "He knows you didn't mean to hurt him."

"Hurt him?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head. "Ma, I almost fucking killed the kid!"

"Bobby, don't curse."

"Sorry."

"And Bobby," she said. "You did not almost kill him. You were worried about him and you were angry with him. Worry does things to a person. Maybe you could have handled it a bit differently but you didn't do what you did out of spite or hate and your brother knows that."

Bobby nodded, taking it all in. He knew all of this but it only took effect when his mother said it to him. "How did you know I'd come home, Ma?" he asked.

Evelyn just smiled. "Because I know you, son."

Bobby chuckled and they shared a quiet laugh. Sobering up quickly he said, "I should go talk to the kid."

"Bobby, it's late!"

"It's Saturday tomorrow," Bobby replied with a shrug. "Not like he has to go to school or anything."

"Still, Bobby. You should let him sleep."

"Only if he's still awake then," he said, rising from the chair. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Goodnight, Ma."

"Goodnight, Bobby," Evelyn said as she watched her older son leave the room. She took a sip of her tea and hoped that the issue between her oldest son and her youngest would be resolved soon.

...

Jack balanced himself carefully on the roof, trying not to slip and fall backwards. He had to stop and hold out his arms for a third time, so he could keep himself steady. He was beginning to feel a little light-headed and everything around him seemed to blur around the edges. Sounds were sharp in his ears and lights were too bright and all he wanted was to sleep the rest of the night away with his pillow over his head.

Slowly, he opened the window to his bedroom and put one leg inside. As he was easing his way into his room, he tripped and fell forward with a yelp of surprise. He tumbled into his room and landed near the foot of his bed. He felt his arm brush something and he raised his head to look and was startled to see Bobby sitting there. He groaned and let his head fall back on to the floor. As he fell he tried to grab for something and he had managed to drag his pillow down with him. He put it over his face and lay there.

"Hi Jack." Bobby's voice was calm. He didn't want to start something.

"Hi Bobby," Jack replied, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Bobby stood and grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him to his feet. "All right, Jackie, come on!"

Jack groaned and said something that wasn't coherent. Bobby sat him on his bed, steadying him so he wouldn't fall over. He flicked on the lamp on the bedside table. Jack put up his hand to block out the light. Bobby's eye-brows narrowed as he took in his brother's appearance-pale face, unbalanced, sensitivity to light. Oh God, what a stupid kid! He inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.

"Jack, are you drunk?" Bobby asked. It was then he saw the redness in his brother's eyes. He grabbed Jack's face lightly and turned it towards himself so he could have a better look. "_And _high?"

"Yeah," was Jack's reply. The night's events were starting to become hazy but he remembered hanging out with Mark. Mark had brought along a bottle of whiskey along with the joints and it took them less than an hour to finish it.

"Fuck, I came here to apologize," Bobby said. He took another steadying breath. "Okay look, I'm not gonna yell at you though believe me, Jack, I really want to."

"Okay," Jack replied, blinking up at Bobby. He looked around for a few seconds then back to Bobby. A confused expression crossed his features. "What?"

"Shit, kid," Bobby said, holding back the urge to yell and smack his brother upside the head. "You're gonna get some sleep now, got it? I'm gonna wake you up in the morning. We're going somewhere."

"Where-where are we going?" Jack asked. His eyes were beginning to close and he was swaying slightly back and forth.

"It doesn't fucking matter where we're going," Bobby said, pushing Jack backwards so he'd lie down. "You're gonna be up at 10:00, okay Jackie? 10:00. 10:01 and I'm dragging you out of bed, understand?"

"Yeah." Jack settled himself in his bed. He grabbed for the blanket and Bobby handed it to him. He covered himself with it and closed his eyes.

"What did I say, Jack?"

"You said-10:00."

"Good," Bobby said. He thought for a moment. "And if you puke, you're cleaning it up."

"O-kay."

Bobby scoffed. "Now go to sleep you fuckin' little fairy."

"Don't...call...me..."

Jack was asleep before he could fully get the sentence out. Bobby shook his head and fixed the blankets so they covered him. He took a moment to pull Jack's shoes off before clicking off the lamp. He stopped in the doorway and glanced once more at his sleeping kid brother.

"Fuckin' fairy!"

...

Bobby had hoped for a good night's sleep but he didn't get anything close to it. He tossed and turned and switched positions restlessly. It was hard to sleep when you had a million things weighing on your mind. When Bobby finally did fall asleep, it was short-lived. His eyes flew open less than an hour later. His head hurt but not as much as he expected. Still, he would take an aspirin just to be safe. He figured he would need it if he was going to spend the day with Jack. Hell, he'd probably need something stronger.

Frustrated that couldn't get back to sleep, he got out of bed at 7:00 and made his way downstairs. He spoke to Evelyn for a while until she went to work—she had a few things to do, even though it was the weekend. He found himself to be extremely bored and went about doing things at a rapid pace just to pass the time. He made himself breakfast, watched some random infomercials on TV, made another breakfast, went for a walk and then came back and finally collapsed on the couch.

He was still there when Angel came downstairs just before ten. He shut the TV off when Angel sat next to him. It was silent between them for a few moments; Angel was still waking up and Bobby staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

"What are you staring at?" Angel said, looking at Bobby.

"Nothing. Is Jack up yet?"

Angel shook his head. "Nah, man. I didn't see him, anyway."

Bobby looked at his watch. "9:59. Fairy's got one minute to come down those stairs before I go wake him up."

This got Angel's attention. He looked at his brother and shook his head. The look on his face told him everything. "Come on, Bobby, don't do that shit again!"

"Why not?" he exclaimed. "It's not like I'm gonna fucking hurt him! I've done it to you and Jerry a million times." A grin was on his face and the memories hit him. Angel wasn't so keen to relive past times with him.

"I remember," Angel said dryly. "Last time you did that to Jack, you made him cry."

"He was fucking 12 years old!"

"Bobby-you scared him so bad he locked himself in his room and wouldn't come out all day!"

Bobby tried not to snicker at the memory. "Okay, okay, so maybe it wasn't a good idea then. But he's been a fucking Mercer for years. He knows what to expect in this house. I think he can take the Bobby Mercer wake-up call."

"Whatever, man," Angel said, shaking his head. He checked his watch. "Well it's three minutes past ten."

Bobby rubbed his hands together, a gleeful expression crossing his features. "Bobby Mercer wakeup call!" He stood and disappeared upstairs.

Angel rolled his eyes as he watched him go. He went into the kitchen to get himself something to eat and waited for the war to begin.

Bobby pushed Jack's door open and stalked into the room. Jack was buried under a mountain of blankets and showed no sign of waking up any time soon. Bobby ripped the covers off which causes Jack to groan but not open his eyes. Bobby leaned over Jack then and shook him a bit.

"Jack! Get up, Jack! It's past ten."

Jack groaned again and swatted Bobby's hand away. "No...leave me alone. I'm tired."

"I don't give a fuck if you're tired or not," Bobby said, shaking his brother harder this time. "I said ten and it's past ten and you're fucking getting up now!" Jack groaned again and turned away from Bobby. "All right, you asked for it!"

Bobby reached down grabbed Jack by the waist, pulling him up and putting him over his shoulder in one swift movement. He was a tall kid, sure but Bobby he weighed practically nothing and Bobby could still carry him with ease. Jack was wide awake now and he struggled in Bobby's grasp. He pounded on Bobby's back as Bobby walked towards the bathroom, screaming at him to let him go.

"Bobby put me down!" Jack yelled, kicking his legs and trying to get away. His eyes went wide as he realized what Bobby was going to do. "No! No! Bobby, don't do it!"

But it was too late. Bobby pushed the shower curtain aside with his free hand and threw Jack into the tub. He reached over and switched on the water, laughing as the freezing water hit the fully clothed Jack. Jack was certainly more than awake now and he glowered at his brother. Being thrown into the running shower certainly had jarred him awake. Being extremely hung over from the night before wasn't helping either.

"Since your here," Bobby said, still chuckling, "why don't you take a shower?" He turned towards the door and before closing it behind him he said, "Downstairs, twenty minutes. Hurry the fuck up!"

"Did you make him cry this time?" Angel asked when Bobby walked into the kitchen. He had heard the screaming and figured that Jack wasn't really receptive to the "Bobby Mercer wakeup call."

"Not this time," Bobby replied with a loud chuckle. "But little Jackie sure has learned some colourful words, lemme tell you!"

After a laugh Angel said, "Hey Bobby, Julian called while you were upstairs. He might have something on the car that was tailing Jack."

"Good," Bobby said, turning serious in a flash. "Why don't you go meet up with him?"

"What about you?" Angel asked.

"I don't want to see that fuckin' vampire!"

"Bobby..."

"Angel..." Bobby mimicked in a high voice. He shook his head at his brother. "I don't need to come with you. Besides, I'm taking your little sister out."

"Where?" 

"Yeah, Bobby, where?" came a voice from the doorway. Jack was leaning against the doorframe. He looked run down and haggard. His eyes had dark circles under them and his hair was still wet.

"Don't you fucking worry about it." Bobby stood and pushed his chair in. He grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him backwards. "Let's go, Cracker Jack!" Before exiting the house he called, "Call me when you're done, Angel!"

"Okay !"

Being finally alone, Angel took a pamphlet from his back pocket. He had been hiding it and was looking forward to having a chance to read it without anyone looking over his shoulder. He didn't want anyone to know he was thinking about it, not yet. He still had time before he had to leave to meet Julian. Of course, he'd have to walk. He pushed that out of his mind for the moment as he opened the small pamphlet.

_Why Is The Marine Corps Right For You?_

...

"Just remember to give him this."

Mark nodded silently as he took the small package from his brother. He stood in front of him, straight and still like a soldier waiting for his orders. Chester didn't have any more to say or any more orders to give so he left, saying he had some business to take care of. Mark was happy to be left alone because when he was alone, he could finally relax and not worry about his brother watching his every move. Chester was like a hawk in the way he watched him, always making sure he was doing what he was supposed to and that he was doing it right. Mark didn't say anything against his brother or the "mission" again since he really wasn't itching to get the shit kicked out of him.

He stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway and stared at his reflection. He was surprised to see a stranger staring back at him. His eyes were cold and held no emotion. His face was expressionless and lacked kindness and caring. If he wasn't careful, he'd become just like his brother. A stone-faced, heartless man who didn't care what he did or who he hurt in his quest for revenge. But his heart, the only thing that held him back from turning into his brother, made him feel guilty. Deep down, he knew this isn't what he wanted. But it was something he was forced to go along with. Because Chester wanted it and Chester was his brother, his family. And family is something you can't get away from, no matter how hard you try. If anything, it was out of fear that he obediently followed along with his brother's mission. The desire for revenge was not something he had in him.

The silver cross he always wore dangled from his neck and for a moment, he was brought back into the past when his brother, his other brother, gave it to him.

"_Hey Mark, come here!"_

_An eight-year old Mark hopped over to his older brother's bed and jumped up onto it. He bounced up and down with squeals of delight until his brother grabbed him and began to tickle him. He laughed until he couldn't breathe anymore and when his brother stopped, he began to bounce again. _

"_Hi Sidney!" he said as he bounced. Sidney stopped him and had him sit still._

"_Calm down," Sidney said with a laugh. "You've been eating too much candy again haven't you?"_

_Mark shook his head but then burst into giggles and nodded. "I snuck some candy when Mrs. Wilson wasn't looking!"_

_Sidney laughed and ruffled his little brother's hair. "You sneaky little devil!" He tickled Mark again for a few seconds. Then he reached over to his nightstand and opened the drawer, taking out a small object. "I want to give you something, okay?" he said, closing the drawer and turning back to Mark._

"_What is it?" asked Mark, his little face turning pensive as he looked at Sidney. They could hardly afford presents as it was so getting one was truly an exciting event. He tried to see what Sidney held in his hand but he couldn't._

"_This is something Mom gave me a while ago," Sidney explained. His smile was wistful as he remembered their mother. She died when Mark was only three years old. "You don't remember her much do you?"_

_Mark looked sad as he shook his head. His memories of his mother were hazy at best and even then they had started to fade. _

"_That's okay," Sidney said, offering his brother a comforting smile. "She gave me this." He opened his hand to reveal a silver cross on a silver chain. It was a good size and a good quality make. "And now I want you to have it," he said. "Mom always told me that she would be with me every time I wore it. And now she'll be with you. And I'll be with you to."_

_Mark took the cross and held it gingerly in his hands. He made up his mind right then and there that he would never take it off. "Thank you, Sid," he said and threw his arms around his brother._

"_No problem, kid," Sidney said when they broke apart. He stood then and slipped into his jacket. "Listen Mark, I gotta go now. Mrs. Wilson will check in on you later. And Chester will probably be back soon." Mark's face fell and he looked more than sad. "Hey don't worry," Sidney said. "I'll be here when you wake up. Okay?"_

_Mark nodded and smiled. Sidney carried him to his own bed in the room that they shared and tucked him in. _

"_You go to sleep and I'll see you in the morning," Sidney said, giving him a kiss on the forehead._

"_Okay. Goodnight, Sid."_

"_Goodnight, Mark."_

That was the last time Mark saw his older brother alive. He remembered that night when Chester burst into the house, screaming and throwing things. Mark was scared and he began to cry. Chester saw him and he told him that Sidney was dead. Hearing that had made Mark cry even more. He was never going to see Sidney again? Chester had always been a nice guy, joking and laughing and having a good time. But something in him changed that night. Something inside of him snapped. That night he kept muttering something about "him" and how "he" was the one who killed Sidney. After the funeral, Chester packed everything they needed and he and Mark went searching for the man that was responsible for Sidney's death. It wasn't until years later that he got the full story.

And now that he was right in the middle of the plan Chester had spent years talking about and formulating, he didn't know what to feel. He missed Sidney every day and he wanted nothing more in the world then to have him back. But he knew that Sidney wouldn't want his brothers to exact revenge on anyone and Mark wanted to respect that. He felt trapped between the brother he had and the brother he had long ago lost. Finally, he turned away from the mirror; he didn't want to see himself anymore. Especially knowing what he was about to do now and what he and his brother were going to be doing soon. It made him sick inside. All he wanted was for all of this to be over.  
>...<p>

"No, no, no! No sleeping!"

Jack thought he would get to have a small nap in the car while Bobby drove them to who the hell knew where but he was mistaken. Just as he rested his head against the cool glass and shut his eyes, he was jarred awake with a rush push to his shoulder. He sat upright again and crossed his arms over his chest. His head was pounding and he felt like a truck drove over him more than once; he just wanted to sleep for a little longer. But Bobby wasn't going to let him. Every time he shut his eyes he was pushed awake by Bobby. Finally, he gave up on trying to sleep and reached for the radio instead, despite his pounding head. Bobby slapped his hand away.

"Seriously, Bobby?" Jack exclaimed in frustration. "What the fuck?"

"Here princess, take these," was Bobby's reply. He reached into his pocket and took out a napkin that had something wrapped inside.

Jack narrowed his eyes but took it from Bobby. Wrapped inside were two aspirin. He couldn't deny that he needed them and he dry swallowed them quickly. Once again, it was silent in the car. Jack asked where they were going twice already and Bobby told him "not to fucking worry about it." He decided to go another route to get some answers the third time around.

"Why are you dragging me somewhere?" Jack asked, looking at his brother. He briefly considered closing his eyes again but decided against it. Bobby finally turned to look at him.

"Because we need to talk."

_Great. _Jack groaned inwardly at the thought of talking. He hated when people said they wanted to talk. When his social worker used to say they had to "talk" it usually meant that the foster family he was with didn't want him anymore. Next thing he knew he'd be on his way to yet another family. Talking usually meant bad news or that something had happened or even worse—that someone wanted to know what he was feeling and what was going through his mind. A thought suddenly came into his mind that made fear rip through him.

"You aren't taking me to talk to-someone-are you?" Jack had such fear in his eyes that Bobby turned serious.

"No, Jack," Bobby said, keeping his eyes on the road. He motioned for Jack to look out his window. "Look, we're here."

"The hockey rink?" Jack asked as Bobby parked the car and cut the engine. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" Bobby replied as he got out of the car. He stuck his head back in and raised his eye-brows expectantly. "Let's go Princess Jackie, we don't got all fucking day!"

Once they were in their skates—which Bobby had thrown into the car that morning—and on the ice, Bobby made his plan clear. No one was around; the rink and the area around it were completely empty. For September, it was unusually cold and the ice was as frozen as it would be in December. They skated to the middle of the ice and Bobby handed one of the two hockey sticks he had brought to Jack.

"This is what's going down," Bobby started. He took two pucks from his jacket pocket and dropped both onto the ice before them. "We're gonna play a little game."

"Hockey?" Jack muttered sarcastically. Bobby was quick to smack him upside the head, quickly having forgotten that Jack was hung-over.

"Fuckin' smart-ass," he said. "We're gonna play for answers." When Jack looked at him with suspicion he continued, "You've been acting like a pissy little shit lately and everyone's had enough. You're gonna tell me what the fuck is the matter with you or I'm gonna leave you here."

Jack glowered but didn't say anything. Bobby was crazy enough to actually leave him there. He supposed he could just lie and tell Bobby it was nothing and that he was fine but in the back of his mind he knew that wouldn't work. Bobby would see right through him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Bobby said when Jack didn't answer. "I get the puck in; I get to ask a question. You get it in, you don't have to answer. You don't and you do. Got it?"

"Whatever, man."

"Scared, princess?"

Jack didn't answer, just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Bobby was a great hockey player, Jack wasn't and they both knew it. Bobby aimed for the empty net and shot. The puck went in easily. Jack sighed inwardly and waited for the question.

"Is it that car that's got you acting like this?"

Jack took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before putting all his effort into his shot. The puck bounced off the post landed a few feet from the net. He didn't have to look at Bobby to know that he was waiting for Jack to answer.

"Partly," Jack muttered under his breath, hoping Bobby didn't hear him.

"Partly?" Bobby echoed. "Good to know, Jackie." He retrieved the pucks and took his second shot. Again, it went in effortlessly. "Okay then—what's this 'partly' shit? What else is bothering you, Cracker Jack?"

Jack was determined more than ever to get the puck in this time. He concentrated and took his shot. It bounced off the top post this time and landed right in front of the net. Jack closed his eyes and took another breath. Again, he could tell Bobby was waiting for him. He leaned on the hockey stick for support. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I'm not happy," he said finally. He avoided Bobby's gaze. "You're all fucking smothering me! All I want is a little independence. I don't need to be watched over every second of the day!"

Bobby raised his eye-brows in surprise at Jack's outburst. "We're not fucking smothering you. What, now we can't worry now?" Before Jack could say anything, he continued. "Let's just fucking continue this."

For the third time in a row, Bobby got the puck in. "All right, Jackie, answer me this. Why the fuck did you get high last night?"

Jack cringed. He knew Bobby would bring it up sooner or later. Keeping his cool for the moment, he shot the puck. Bobby looked as surprised as he felt when it went into the net. A visible wave of relief washed over Jack. Bobby was caught between being proud and pissed.

"Lucky break," Bobby said, his competitive nature kicking in. "We still got time. Let's go!"

The shoot and question game went on for another hour before Bobby decided to give Jack a rest. Sometimes Jack was able to dodge Bobby's question, though more often than not. All in all, it wasn't as painful as Jack was expecting it to be. If anything, he was able to say some of the things that had been eating at him for the past while. By no means were all the problems magically solved but they had at least been brought to light. Bobby and Jack left that day on better terms than they had been before.

After they were done, Jack asked Bobby to drive him to Mark's house. It took some convincing and a tiny bit of begging before Bobby finally agreed. The drive was a relatively silent one though Bobby let Jack turn on the radio this time around. When they reached Mark's house, Jack was about to get out when Bobby stopped him.

"Listen, Jack," he began. Jack could see it was hard for Bobby to put what he wanted to say into words. "Last night—I didn't fucking-I mean-look, kid, I didn't mean to fucking scare you all right?"

Jack nodded a small smile on his face. "Yeah, I know, Bobby."

Bobby nodded, glad that was over. "I'm coming to pick you up at five. You better be fucking ready and waiting."

"Okay."

Bobby watched Jack knock on the door and then disappear inside before driving away.

...

Angel stepped out of the ramshackle, broken down house of Julian Connors with only a little more information than he had when he walked in. Julian wasn't able to find out much about the mysterious black car but every little bit helped. Zipping up his jacket against the cold, Angel walked down the broken stone pathway that led to the street. He walked over to the bus stop on the corner with a look of scorn on his face. He dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and dialled.

It rang a few times before a voice answered,

"Hello?"

"Hey Bobby? Its Angel."

"No shit."

Angel gave an aggravated grunt. "Shut-up, man! Listen, I just left Julian's."

"And? What did the prick have to say?"

"Not much," Angel said. He moved farther into the bus shelter to get out of the wind's path. "He only found out where the car originally came from. It's under some fake name."

He could hear Bobby grunt angrily over the phone. "Well that's just fucking great! Where does it come from, at least?"

"Get this, the plates are Canadian."

"What?" A confused pause then, "Why the hell would a Canadian be following Jack?"

"I don't know, Bobby," Angel said with a sigh. "Julian couldn't find anything else."

"Fuckin' wonderful," Bobby said. "Just get home, Angel and we'll figure something out."

"Can you-"

But the dial tone already chimed loudly in his ears.

"-come pick me up," he finished with a sigh. He pocketed his phone and leaned against the glass wall of the bus shelter. Hopefully the bus would come soon.

...

"You all right, Jack?"

"Huh?" Jack looked at Mark with a confused expression on his face then realizing someone was talking to him, shook his head to break from his thoughts. He offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I was just..."

"Thinking?" Mark offered, his eye-brows raised slightly.

"Yeah. Thinking."

"Well-stop!" Mark said, giving Jack a playful push. "Get whatever it is off your mind! We-" he motioned back and forth from Jack to himself, "-are here to have a good time!"

"Here?" asked Jack with a trace of scepticism in his voice. "Here is your house and here we are sitting on the couch. Not much fun is it?"

"Don't worry about that," Mark said with a wave of his hand. "I got something that'll-"

Mark was cut off when both boys became aware of another presence in the room. Their eyes traveled to the doorway where Chester stood, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest. There was no telling how long he had been standing there or how much he had heard. His expression was unreadable but he had a slight smile on his face. Upon noticing his brother, Mark's stomach tightened and he felt fear begin to rise in him. Jack looked at him with curiosity in his eyes and it was clear that he was trying hard not to stare at Chester's scar.

"Mark," Chester said. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your guest?"

"Oh-uh-" Mark sputtered for a few moments before getting his voice to sound normal. "This is Jack-uh-Mercer."

"Hi," Jack replied. His voice was lower and sounded meek. He tended to get shyer around strangers and there was something about Chester that made him nervous. He tried pushing that feeling away; it was stupid to think in such a paranoid way.

"So Jack, I understand you go to school with Mark?"

"Yeah," Mark broke in before Jack could formulate an answer. "We met on the first day of school."

Chester fixed Mark with such an intense stare that Mark recoiled backwards into the couch. He turned his attention back to Jack. "Was that your father I just saw dropping you off?"

Jack shook his head. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Bobby his father? Bobby couldn't even raise a plant properly! "No, he's my brother."

"Oh!" Chester exclaimed, as if the notion of brothers was something exciting. "How many do you have?"

"Three."

"Oh. Well isn't that wonderful!"

Jack just sat there in silence, not really knowing what to say. Anyone could see that he was uncomfortable of the attention Chester was giving him. Mark's eyes were shining with anger that he was surprised to be feeling. He knew full well Chester knew everything about Jack and his brothers. Asking him was torture and only reminded Mark of what they were going to do soon. He breathed a sigh of relief when Chester let up.

"Well-I should be going now." Chester smiled at Jack, his grin wider than before. It was nice to meet you, Jack. Be seeing you soon."

Jack nodded in greeting but Mark felt a chill rip through him at his brother's words. _Be seeing you soon._ He pushed his thoughts and feelings about it away. He didn't want Jack to notice anything odd and start asking questions. He forced what hoped to be an easy-going smile on his face and nudged Jack.

"Sorry. Brothers, you know?"

Jack scoffed and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "Yeah, trust me, I know!" A moment of silence passed between them. Jack remembered Mark saying that he had something before Chester showed up. "What were you gonna show me?"

"What? Oh!" Mark remembered his earlier conversation with Chester and the small package he had given him. He took it out of his pocket then. "This."

Jack looked at the small package and his eyes widened slightly. It was a clear bag filled with little white pills. At first glance, they looked like regular aspirin but it was clear that they were something much stronger. Jack wasn't sure what to say at first. He had a past with drugs; it was something he wasn't too keen on reliving again. He had been in a bad way but his family got him help. He swore and he promised that he would never get into drugs again. The pot was one thing. But now pills? He didn't know what to do.

"Don't look so freaked!" Mark said with a grin. "It's like you've never seen pills before!"

"It's more because I have seen them," Jack replied. When Mark looked confused he added, "I used to take drugs before. It didn't end too well."

"But this is the good stuff!" Mark argued. "All it does is give you a buzz. It's not harmful-at least like cocaine or heroin or something!"

"I don't know, man..."

"Oh come on, Mercer! Are you a pussy or what?"

Jack became defensive then. "No! I'm not a fucking-you know what? Fine, whatever. Give it to me."

Mark's smile widened and he bounced in his seat a little as he opened the plastic bag and handed a pill to Jack. Then he took one for himself. _It'll make me happier,_ he thought to himself_. It'll make me feel better about what I'm doing._ Together, they toasted each other as if they were drinking and then swallowed the pills in unison. It wasn't before long that reality began to fade and the world of the drug took over.

…

_"I want a Happy Meal!"_

_All eyes turned to the child who spoke those words. Mark had been quiet and shy for the past fifteen minutes, clinging to his older brother Sidney and averting his eyes from Chester's new friend, Bobby. But the aroma of the McDonalds they were sitting in soon got to him and he broke away from his brother and loudly stated what he wanted to eat. The three older boys couldn't help but chuckle at him._

_"You'll get your happy meal," Chester said, giving his youngest brother a playful push. He took some money out of his pocket and gave it to Sidney. "Go order, Sid."_

_Sidney took the money and got up, jumping over Bobby to get out of the cramped booth. "What do you want, Bobby?"_

_Bobby shook his head. "Nothing. I'm good!"_

_"Come on, Bobby!" Chester said. "Have something, at least!"_

_"Yeah, Bobby!" squeaked Mark, obviously mimicking his brother._

_Bobby chuckled. "All right, fries then!"_

_Sidney left to get the food and at the last second, Mark decided to go with him and he scrambled over the table to chase after his brother. Chester and Bobby laughed as they watches Mark take off like a shot and leap onto an unsuspecting Sidney's back._

_"Sorry if they seem a bit crazy, man," Chester said when he turned back to Bobby._

_"You kiddin' me?" Bobby said with a chuckle and a shake of the head. "I got two brothers just like you and we're way fucking worse."_

_"Really?" Chester asked with an amused glance. In his mind, no one could be as crazy as his family. "How so?"_

_"Well, this one time," Bobby began then stopped, laughing at the memory. "This one time, my brother Jerry built this tree house in our backyard-big fucking thing, he worked on it for something like five months. One night, I come home drunk out of my mind and I decide to go in the tree house. And this was December so you can imagine how fucking cold it was, right? So being drunk as I was, I decide to light a fire."_

_Chester's eyes widened incredulously. "In the tree house?"_

_"Yeah," Bobby answered, laughing. "In the fucking tree house! So I made a shitty little fire with some twigs and it started to spread. I fell out of the tree house and landed on the ground. Next thing I know, the whole damn fire department was in our backyard trying to put out the fire. Fuckin' tree house was ruined."_

_"Oh my God!" Chester managed between fits of loud laughter. He was laughing so hard he was slapping the table while trying to catch his breath. "That was fucking hilarious, man!"_

_"One of the many Mercer family moments," Bobby said, wiping away the tears laughing so hard had caused._

_"I take it back," Chester said after finally being able to breathe normally again. "Your family is crazier than mine!"_

_Bobby's reply was to nod in the "I told you so" kind of way. Before another question could be asked or a story told, Sidney and Mark returned to the table with the food. Mark happily tore into his happy meal and was too engrossed in it to say anything for the next while. Bobby watched the brotherly banter between Sidney and Chester with a wistful smile. Spending time with the Topefield brothers made him miss his own brothers and his home._

_But he'd be going home soon enough. He and Chester only had two more nights to go before their debt would be clear. All he had to do was go through it and he'd be on his way back to Detroit._

_How was he supposed to know everything would go horribly wrong?_

…

**A/N: **There you have it! Hope you all enjoyed it! It'll pick up and get more exciting soon, I promise! And of course, I had to throw in a little Canadian shout-out. Please review! Thanks! -Addie


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you all for the reviews, I can't tell you how much I appreciate them! It makes me want to keep writing and writing! So once again, thank you. Here is chapter 5:

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own anything affiliated with Four Brothers. I only own the characters I have made up.

…

**Chapter Five:**

_"What, are you done already?" Bobby watched Chester walk towards him, his eye-brows raised incredulously._

_"What can I say?" Chester popped his collar and grinned. "I'm the king of selling."_

_"Yeah," Bobby said with a roll of his eyes. "You be proud of that."_

_Chester's reply was to stick his tongue out at Bobby and then hop onto a crate to count the money he had made that night. Bobby shook his head at his friend, not understanding how Chester could be so happy with what they were doing. Drugs were something that Bobby never agreed with; their effects on people sickened him. He considered selling them the lowest thing he had done and would ever do in his lifetime. But desperate times call for desperate measures and Bobby knew full well that sometimes you had to do things you didn't like to get through life. Even if it meant compromising your morals and beliefs._

_**One more day. One more fucking day.**___

_"How much do you have left, Bobby?" Chester asked. He stuffed the money he had made into the pocket of his hoodie with a satisfied grin on his face._

_"Half," Bobby replied glumly. He moved to sit on the crate next to Chester. He was silent for a moment, watching as his breath curled into the air and disappeared upwards. "I'm fucking tired," he finally said._

_"Well," Chester said, his head slightly cocked to the side, "I can sell the rest for you." He shrugged and said as an afterthought, "If you want."_

_Bobby inhaled as he thought and then exhaled deeply. "Yeah I guess." He rubbed at his tired eyes. "I don't fucking care, man. I just want to be done with this shit."_

_"I don't know," Chester said with a shrug. "I could totally do this. I mean let's face it dude-I fucking rock at this. I could kick ass at this!"_

_Bobby had to suppress the urge to smack the stupid out of him just then. "Are you actually retarded?"_

_Chester looked confused. "What do you mean?"_

_"This is drug dealing," Bobby said. He spoke slowly as if Chester were five years old. "This isn't a fucking profession like-like-a fucking doctor or something."_

_"I know!" Chester replied. "But it's fun! I could totally make a decent living."_

_"Aren't you against drugs?" Bobby asked, recalling an earlier conversation where Chester said he'd personally kick his brother's asses if they touched drugs._

_"Taking them," Chester said. "But this is just selling."_

_Bobby just shook his head and raised his hands in surrender. He saw no point in continuing the conversation where Chester was repeatedly contradicting himself. It was silent between them again and Bobby found himself wondering about his family. He often did when he had time to think. He was never one to be homesick-he could disappear for months or even a year-but this time was different. Perhaps it was the shitty situation he was in and how bad he wanted to get out of it._

_"So what do you wanna do then?" Chester asked, breaking Bobby out of his thoughts._

_"Hockey, I guess," Bobby said after a few moments of thought. "I'd love to play pro hockey. Or maybe even own a bar or a place like that."_

_"Cool!" Chester replied with an appreciative head nod. "That's really awesome." After a pause he said, "I don't really know what I want to do. I just wanna make money to support me and my brothers, you know?"_

_"Yeah, I get that."_

_"Sid's gonna be the one to do something," Chester said. "He wants to go to college. He's a smart kid. He's gonna get out of this shitty town. He's going places, I tell ya."_

_Bobby smiled at Chester's brotherly pride. "That's good, man. The kid deserves it."_

_"Guess I should go finish selling now," Chester said after a while. He jumped off the crate and took the stuff from Bobby. "Later dude!" he called behind him as he turned out of the alley._

_Bobby watched him go and then sat back against the wall. He hoped his future would turn out as bright as he had planned._

_..._

Mark stood before his bedroom window, staring blankly at the empty street as his stomach burned and twisted with anxiety and guilt. He'd give his very soul to have woken up sick or with some form of disability that would prevent him from going to school that day. A normal teenager might wanna skip school to have fun or because they didn't complete an assignment. But Mark wasn't a normal teenager. His yearning to miss school that day wasn't for a frivolous reason. His not going would prevent the ruin and heartbreak of a family.

"What are you doing standing there?"

Mark spun around quickly when he heard Chester's voice behind him. His heart raced from being pulled out of his thoughts so quickly. Fear rippled through him when, for a split second, he thought about what Chester would do to him if he found out about his doubting thoughts. Mark tried to put an easy-going expression on his face in hopes that Chester wouldn't see through his facade and find out the truth.

"I-I'm sorry," Mark stammered. "I was just-thinking."

"Thinking?" Chester asked, raising one eye-brow as he walked towards Mark. He stared at him for a few seconds before giving him a small push. "Don't think so much." He turned and as he walked out of the room he said, "Get moving. We shouldn't waste any time."

Mark closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath and with one last sigh, walked out of his room. Chester was standing by the front door when he came down the stairs. The early morning light from outside hit Chester's face and illuminated his scar. In spite of himself, Mark's eyes widened in fear. He looked away and bent down to grab his school bag from the foot of the stairs. As he prepared to leave, Chester grabbed his arm.

"I don't think I need to tell you how much is riding on this," Chester said, his voice low and menacing. "Do I?"

Mark shook his head but didn't meet his brother's gaze. "No you don't. I know what to do."

"You better," Chester replied, giving his brother a small shove again. "You know what happens if you fail."

Mark nodded silently. He wanted to get out, to leave. But Chester wasn't done with him just yet.

"You get the youngest Mercer to come home with you," Chester said. Mark had heard this a million times but Chester never tired of saying it. "You get him here and we'll take care of him."

Once again, Mark remained silent. The guilt and the fear twisted and turned in his stomach and threatened to make him sick. He had had one friend in his entire life and he was about to betray him for a mission that wasn't even his own.

"We'll make the Mercers know what its like, won't we?" Chester said. He was talking to himself now. Mark waited silently to be released. "We'll show them what it's like to lose a brother." He looked down at Mark and smiled cruelly. "Won't we?"

"Yes."

Chester's disgusting smile didn't leave his face. "Good. Now get out there. Make me proud."

Mark turned and left without a word. He hurriedly walked down the pathway and turned onto the sidewalk. Before reaching the bus stop, he stopped and was sick in the bushes. When he was finished, he continued on his way as if nothing had happened. Before stepping onto the bus, he grabbed his cross and looked upwards, silently asking for forgiveness.

...

"Jack?"

"What?" came the lazy reply.

"What the fuck is the matter with you now?"

A dramatic and elongated sigh. "Nothing."

Jack sunk a bit lower in the front seat and leaned his head against the glass. His eyes fluttered closed and he felt himself being pulled into sleep. At least until Bobby shook his shoulder and jarred him awake again. Jack sighed and sat upright again, giving Bobby an annoyed glare.

"I'm just tired," he finally said, crossing his arms across his chest. He shrugged. "Didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I thought all princesses needed their beauty sleep," Bobby said then laughed at his own joke.

"Fuck off, Bobby."

Bobby didn't hesitate to slap Jack upside the head.

"Ow! Fuck!" Jack exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. "What the hell?"

Bobby grinned and said simply, "Now you're awake."

Jack didn't answer and turned to look at the scenery passing by. He felt nervous that morning and wanted to avoid Bobby at all costs. Two nights ago, he came home high from Mark's. He had managed to appear normal for his family, though Bobby had looked at him suspiciously. When he was alone in his room, the drugs really hit him and he was wired and hallucinatory for most of the night. He ended up getting less than two hours of sleep. The next day, Sunday, Bobby dragged him, Angel and Jerry to the rink to play hockey. All day Jack was waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Bobby to approach him about the drugs. But nothing had happened. That night, though he was way past exhausted, Jack still only managed to get a few hours of sleep.

With his luck, Bobby offered to drive him to school again Monday morning. Jack suspected Bobby was doing it just to keep an eye on him. Because really, when did Bobby ever do anything nice just because? Jack just prayed silently that Bobby hadn't noticed anything and that if he did, he wouldn't bring it up.

"Seriously," Bobby said after a few minutes. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You're more like a zombie than usual."

"I told you I-"

"Don't give me that 'I couldn't sleep' crap," Bobby cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Then nothing," Jack said. He looked out the window and actually wished they'd arrive at school soon.

"It's that Mark kid, isn't it?" Bobby asked after a few moments of silence had passed. "I knew there was something wrong with him."

"You never even met him!" Jack said incredulously. "How would you know?

"Aww," Bobby said, ruffling Jack's hair. When Jack swatted his arm away he chuckled. "Protective of your new boyfriend?"

"Give it a rest," Jack said with another sigh.

Bobby turned onto the main road. "I don't trust him." When Jack just shrugged he continued, "He fucking gave you drugs. He can't be that good of a friend." For a moment, Jack thought Bobby had found out but then he realized Bobby was referring to the first time he came home high and he had caught him trying to sneak into his room.

"I can get drugs anywhere," Jack muttered under his breath.

Bobby raised his eye-brows and turned to him. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah I'm sure you didn't," Bobby said. Another moment of silence passed. "What did you say his last name was?"

"Bobby!" Jack said in exasperation. "Can't you just let it go already?" When Bobby gave him a look he rolled his eyes and said, "Sidney."

Bobby nodded but didn't say anything. The name sounded familiar but he couldn't quite grasp why. He shrugged it off for the moment. The remainder of the ride was silent; Bobby driving and Jack staring out the window. When Bobby pulled into the school, Jack reached into the backseat to grab his bag and tried to make a quick exit.

"Hold on," Bobby said before Jack could hurry away.

Jack groaned internally and leaned down to look into the car. "Yeah?"

"I'll pick you up after school."

"No!" Jack said a bit too fast. "I mean-no. Just-I'll be home, okay?"

Bobby was unsure. "Are you gonna go out with your fucking boyfriend?"

"No. I don't know," Jack said. He sighed and looked at Bobby pleadingly. "Please, Bobby? I'll come home early, I promise."

"Fine," Bobby said after a moment. "But you be home before dinner or I'll find you and I'll tie you to the fucking car and drag you home."

Jack suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay okay. Thanks."

"Yeah yeah. Just go to school you fairy."

Jack shook his head but there was a small grin on his face as he walked away. Bobby watched him until he disappeared inside the building. He was about to pull out of the parking lot when he suddenly felt like he wasn't alone. He looked behind him, out the rear window, but didn't see anyone out of the ordinary. With a shake of his head, he turned and pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove home, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach; something inside telling him that maybe he should go pick Jack up after school. But then he quickly pushed it away, telling himself that he was just being stupid.

Later he would wish he had trusted his bad feeling.

...

"See y'all later!"

"Have fun!"

Bobby heard his brother's voices and the sound of the front door closing as he walked out of the kitchen. He had a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. Just as he collapsed onto the couch, Angel and Jerry entered the living room. Jerry sat next to him and Angel eased himself into the chair across from him. He looked at Bobby with a laughing expression as he ate.

"What?" Bobby asked, his mouth full. He turned to Jerry who was giving him a similar look. "What?"

Jerry chuckled. "Bobby we just ate lunch an hour ago!"

Bobby shrugged and took another monster-sized bite out of his sandwich. "So what? I'm fucking hungry."

"Yeah," Angel said with a laugh, "you're a growing boy."

"Hey," Bobby said in protest. "I am "

"Right," Angel said with a roll of his eyes. He thought for a moment. "Bobby, we never ended up talking about what Julian found out."

Jerry looked between the both of them. "Julian? Connors? What did he say?" He looked to Bobby. "Is this about the car that followed Jack?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Angel went to talk to him the other day." He took another bite of his sandwich. "Not that the vampire fucker had much to say."

"He didn't find out much," Angel corrected and Bobby waved him off with a 'whatever' gesture. "Julian said the car was under a fake name."

"What fake name?" Jerry asked.

"John Smith."

"Great," Bobby said sarcastically as he threw his plate onto the coffee table. It landed with a loud clank and bounced a few centimetres. "Jack's being followed by Pocahontas' lover?"

Angel and Jerry turned to look at Bobby incredulously. Bobby looked from one brother to the other with an expression that clearly said 'what the fuck?' Angel and Jerry shared a laugh before answering him. They both looked at Bobby like he had sprouted a second head. Bobby looked genuinely confused and an irritated expression was beginning to form on his face.

"How the hell would you even know that?" Angel asked.

"Fuck off," Bobby replied. He twisted off the cap from his beer and threw it onto the table. He took a drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've been watching a lot of TV lately." When they just smirked at him, he shook his head. "Just fuck off, both of you," he said in an annoyed tone. "Angel, tell Jerry where that fucking car comes from."

"Julian said the car had Canadian plates," Angel said to Jerry. He shrugged. "It's all he could find."

"Canadian?" Jerry echoed. He looked as confused as his brothers felt. "It could be someone who lived in Canada before."

"And they came to Detroit just to follow Jack?" Bobby shook his head. "I don't know, Jer. None of this makes any fucking sense."

Something about the whole situation was bothering Bobby. The car coming from Canada was one thing-really, who would come to the States from there to follow a sixteen year old kid?-but it was something else all together. Besides the fact that a car was following his little brother, Bobby couldn't get rid of the feeling that someone was following him too. Every time he left the house, he had the nagging feeling that he wasn't alone. He felt like there was always a pair of eyes on him and it was beginning to piss him off.

"What is it?" he heard Jerry ask.

"What? Oh," Bobby said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He realized both Angel and Jerry were staring at him with curious expressions on their faces. "I was just thinking-the past couple of days, I've felt like someone was fucking following me."

Angel raised an eye-brow. "Oh what, you too?"

Bobby shrugged. "Fuck I didn't say for sure. Just feels like someone is watching me."

"Maybe," Jerry said with a shrug. "Could be the same person that followed Jack."

"We should talk to him when he gets home," Angel said. "See if he remembers anything about the car, the driver."

Bobby scoffed then. "Right. The little fairy never comes home anymore. Spends all his time with his boyfriend." He paused for a second and his eye-brows knit together in disdain. "That kid bugs me."

Jerry rolled his eyes and patted Bobby's shoulder. "Everyone bugs you, Bobby."

"I'm fucking serious," Bobby exclaimed. He slammed his beer down on the table for emphasis. "He gives Jack drugs, gets him high and fuckin' drunk. I don't trust him."

"All right, whatever," Angel said, waving Bobby off. "Whenever Jack gets home, let's talk to him."

"And find out why a fucking Canadian is following him!"

"Maybe it's you, Bobby," Angel suggested with a smirk. "Maybe you did something and now someone's coming after us!"

"Yeah, he's right," Jerry said, picking up on Angel's tone. "Who did you piss off in Canada?"

"Don't you shitheads gotta work?" Bobby asked, his tone annoyed again. Angel and Jerry laughed as Bobby flipped them off.

"I do, actually," Jerry said, rising from the couch. "You need a ride, Angel?"

"Yeah, man," Angel replied, stretching and getting up. "We can't all sit at home and watch TV all day!"

"Ahh you're just jealous," Bobby said with a grin. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on as Angel and Jerry made their way to the door. "Have a nice day, girls!" he called to them. He cackled loudly when they both told him where to go.

...

The bell rang shrilly to signal the start of fourth period and Mark practically jumped out of his seat to get out of class. He hadn't paid much attention in any of his glasses; his insides were twisting into knots and his mind was occupied. That's why when the bell rang for fourth period-his free period-he bolted out of his seat and ran out the door. He was glad to be out of the watchful eyes of his teachers. He quickly stopped by his locker to deposit his books then ran out the back doors to meet Jack by the football field. There was a spot under the bleachers where he'd go to smoke or to be alone. Jack had a free period too. It was the only time Mark would have to talk to him about coming home with him.

When he approached the spot where Jack frequented, he felt the already twisted knots in his stomach start twisting again. What he was about to do-what his brother was going to do-was beginning to become real. For years and years it had only been talk. A part of Mark always hoped it would never come to fruition. But here he was, an accessory to a plan for revenge. But Mark had no choice. No matter what he wanted or what he felt, he couldn't go against his brother.

"Hey Jack," he said as he ducked under the bleachers to get to where Jack sat.

Mark settled himself on the ground, sitting in front of Jack who sat with his legs crossed and his back against the back of the bleachers. Jack was just finishing a cigarette when Mark sat down.

"Hey."

"How long you been out here?" Mark asked. It was cold and he pulled his jacket tightly around himself. He couldn't help but notice Jack's open leather jacket, only a thin t-shirt underneath. "Man, aren't you cold? It's fuckin' freezing out here!"

Jack looked down at himself then back to Mark, finally shrugging. "Not really. The cold doesn't really bother me."

"Apparently not," Mark said with a laugh. He shook his head. A look of seriousness crossed his features then. He remembered what he had to do. "Hey Jack-wanna do something after school today?"

"I don't know," Jack said. He remembered his conversation with Bobby that morning. "Maybe. My brother was giving me some trouble this morning."

"What?" Mark asked, his eyes widening in spite of himself. He felt panic rise in his chest. Nothing could go wrong. He forced himself to keep his tone even. "Did he forbid you to go or something?"

"What? " Jack gave him a look like the notion of Bobby forbidding him to do anything was ridiculous. "No. He just-gave me a hard time is all." Jack shrugged again. "He said I don't have to come straight home." He paused for a moment and then as an afterthought said, "Not that he can tell me what to do."

"Then come back to my place!" Mark said, throwing his hands up in the air.

Jack smiled but still looked unsure. "I don't know-"

"Oh come on!" Mark exclaimed. "I promise you a good time!" He grinned. "Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

Jack took a few seconds to think about it before finally saying, "All right. You swayed me. I'll come. But I can't stay too long. My brother threatened to kill me if I did."

Mark forced back a grimace at that. If only Jack knew how long he was going to stay. Instead, he said, "He threatened to kill you?"

Jack shrugged as if that was a natural occurrence. With Bobby, it might as well be. "Well not kill me," Jack said, "more drag me home behind the car or...something." At Mark's slightly horrified expression, Jack chuckled and said, "He's not actually gonna do it."

Mark chuckled at his own stupidity. "I knew that."

"Right," Jack said with a smirk. He rose to his feet. "I'll be right back. Bathroom."

"All right."

As soon as Jack was gone, Mark felt his facade crumble into tiny pieces. He didn't know how long he would be able to keep it up. His conscience was screaming at him to tell Jack everything, to save him from what was about to happen to him. But as always, his loyalty to his brother won out. With a pained sigh, he leaned against the bleachers and closed his eyes.

He could easily but on a facade but he couldn't ignore the feeling that he bad just signed Jack's death warrant.

...

The beige car pulled slowly down the busy street, taking great care to stay hidden from the two men it was following. That is until it decided to make its presence known. For the time being, the car crawled along at a snail's place; the driver said window half open so that the driver could catch snippets of conversation from the two men.

"So," the older of the two began, "what you're saying is you're not happy?"

The other slowly nodded. "That's exactly what I'm sayin', man."

"Well what's not making you happy, Angel?" Jerry studied his brother's expression, trying to see if he could figure out the problem. Angel was never one to talk about his feelings much-not that any of the Mercer's were in the first place. "Is it something at home? Work?" He paused for a few seconds before asking, "Sofi?"

Angel didn't answer right away. How could he explain what he was feeling when he didn't even know himself? He regretted saying something now and wished Jerry would change the conversation. It was too late for that. Jerry was the type to never forget what was said to him so Angel figured it'd be better to just talk now. He thought for a few more moments and then finally he gave a small shrug.

"It's everything," Angel said finally. "Fuckin" life, dawg. I wanna get out-do something better, I guess."

"I get that," Jerry replied with a thoughtful nod. "So what would you wanna do then? Where do you wanna go?"

Angel hesitated again. Did he really want to tell Jerry? He never said it out loud-no one knew what he had been researching and considering for months now. Jerry was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Angel took a breath and pulled out a crumpled pamphlet from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Jerry without a word and nervously waited for him to say something.

"The Marines, huh?" Jerry said after a few moments of reading. He nodded appreciatively and Angel felt relief flow through him. "I think it's a good idea. Is it what you want?"

"Yeah," Angel said with confidence; a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. "I think I really do."

"Then good for you, Angel!" Jerry slapped his shoulder and grinned. "I think you'll make one tough marine, little brother."

They both laughed and continued down the street. They were almost at the store where Angel worked. Jerry didn't have to be at work for another hour so he offered to walk Angel to his work. They didn't see the beige car come up behind them until the driver called out to them.

"Excuse me!"

Angel and Jerry stopped and turn to look into the car that had stopped beside them. The man didn't look familiar to either of them. He was white, was of average height and build-at least it appeared so, it was hard to tell when a person was sitting-and had close cut blonde hair. His most distinguishing feature though was a scar that ran down one side of his face. The man smiled at them.

"Could you give me directions to the school?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I have to pick up my brother. I'm new and this is my first time picking him up."

Jerry nodes and politely chuckled. "Sure no problem. You just keep going the way you're going, then turn left at the lights. After that, make one right and one left and you'll see the school."

"Thanks," the man said. He nodded in appreciation. "You have a nice day, now."

The man drove off down the street, going the way Jerry had instructed him to go. Jerry looked at Angel and shrugged. Without a second thought, they were back on their way.

The beige car pulled to the side of the road after turning at the lights. Chester sat in the driver's seat, chuckling to himself. He marvelled at how some people could be so clueless. He had come into contact with these people so many times and hadn't been noticed or discovered. It would make the revenge even sweeter, he decided. When it was all said and done, the Mercer's would be kicking themselves; they would think of how many times they could have prevented what would happen. If only they had paid more attention. If only they had been smarter.

But they weren't so smart were they? They would never see him coming. Not until it was too late, anyway. Not until four brothers turned to three.

With a gleeful laugh, he turned the car on and pulled back onto the road. It wouldn't be long now.

...

When Mark's brother's car pulled up in front of Mark's house, Jack felt an uneasy sensation begin to stir in his stomach. It was as if there were butterflies flapping around in his stomach; trying to tell him something. Or warn him against something. He didn't pay much attention to the feeling though. Jack always found himself to feel nervous or worried or some other unpleasant feeling that liked to permanently live inside of him. He shook the feeling off, telling himself that he was being stupid. Mark was his friend and he had no reason to be nervous. Mark's brother, Chester, might have been a bit intimidating but again, he rationed with himself. Wouldn't Mark feel the same way meeting Bobby for the first time? Older brothers could be intimidating. Nothing weird there. So what was it? What was bugging him this time? Even though he pushed it out of his mind, he couldn't help but going back to it. What was he so apprehensive about?

"Jack?"

He broke out of his thoughts then. Mark stood a few feet in front of him, halfway up the path that lead to his front door. He waited for a Jack, a curious expression on his face. Chester had already disappeared inside. Jack realized he had been standing by the car, the back door still open. He gave Mark a sheepish grin and slammed the door.

"Sorry," he said. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and walked towards him. "Must have got lost in thought."

"Well come on then!" Mark said, giving Jack a small shove towards the front door. "You may not be cold but I'm freezing!"

Jack laughed and followed Mark up the front steps. Mark went into the house first, pushing open the door and throwing his schoolbag towards the bottom of the staircase. Jack did the same. Mark stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to look at Jack. All of a sudden he looked scared.

"What?" Jack asked when he saw Mark's expression change so quickly.

He never noticed Chester behind him and he didn't have time to defend himself when a glass vase came crashing down onto his head. He crumpled to the floor; unconscious. Mark grimaced and his heart began to pump rapidly with fear. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. Chester stood over Jack, looking down at the young teenager with a contented, evil smile. He bent down and easily lifted Jack into his arms. He nodded towards Mark as he walked past him, heading for the basement.

"Get his bag."

Mark was frozen until Chester barked at him to hurry up. Quickly he grabbed Jack's schoolbag and followed his brother down the rickety basement stairs.

He was already beginning to feel the pangs of regret spread through his body. Jack Mercer wasn't going to be around much longer. And it was all his fault.

…

**A/N: **Whoa cliff-hanger! You scared? LOL. Well I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you were at the edge of your seats! And I hope there weren't many mistakes—I suck at editing. Anyways- Please give me a review and tell me what you thought! Until next chapter! -Addie


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Hello my wonderful reviewers! I love you all, by the way, you just keep me motivated! So a big thank you to all of you! Now I hope you like this next chapter so here it is, chapter 6!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything related to Four Brothers, etc.

**Note: **So, my next chapter will be put up after Christmas so I would just like to say MERRY CHRISTMAS to all of you out there in advance! I hope your Christmas is amazing!

…

**Chapter 6:**

The Mercer house was unusually quiet that particular afternoon. There were no indoor hockey games going on-a good thing because it meant nothing made of glass would be broken that day. There was no shouting, no stomping; there was only quiet. An unusual occurrence, sure, but nothing to worry over. Peace and quiet were allowed into the rambunctious house every once in a while, after all. This quiet peace, however, would not remain. In only a few short minutes it would be disrupted. And all hell would break loose.

Bobby pounded down the stairs, smoothing his hair down as he did-it had gotten mussed up from the two hour nap he just woke from. With one last yawn, he shook himself fully awake and took a step into the living room. Immediately he could tell that something wasn't right.

Angel sat on the couch, looking ahead. The television was on but it seemed that it was watching him more than he was watching it. He sat upright and not sprawled all over the couch like normal. Something was bothering him and Bobby had a sneaking suspicion of what it was. Still, he asked.

"What's going on?"

Angel looked up, surprised that Bobby was there. He hadn't heard him come into the room. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, what the fuck is it?"

"It's almost six," Angel said. Bobby waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"Thanks, Angel, I know how to tell time."

"No, man!" He lowered his voice. "It's almost six and Jack isn't home yet. Like I said, I'm sure it's nothing."

It was all Bobby needed to hear to get his internal worry alarm to start blaring like a fire truck siren. What the hell was wrong with Jack? He promised Bobby he would be home early. Why the hell would he pull that hiding shit again?

_'Oh I'm gonna kill that little shit!'_ he thought to himself angrily.

He stalked into the room and threw open the curtain. It was already starting to get dark. And there was no sign of Jack; the street was completely empty.

"Did you try calling him?" Bobby asked. When Angel shook his head he said, "Give me the fucking phone!"

He practically ripped the phone from Angel's hand and began dialling. The phone rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. Bobby hung up before it could finish. He threw the phone down onto the couch so hard that it bounced off the cushion and skidded across the floor. Angel looked up at him.

"Bobby..." he began.

"No," Bobby said, cutting him off quickly. "Don't even fucking try."

The front door opened just then and both Bobby and Angel were in the foyer in a flash. Bobby was ready to grab Jack by the hair and throw him halfway across the house. But when they saw it was Evelyn, they both relaxed. She held a sack of groceries in her hand and was looking down. She jumped when she looked up and saw the two of them standing there.

"Oh boys!" she said, putting the sack on the floor. "You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry, Ma," Bobby said as he moved to let her pass. He followed her into the kitchen. Angel grabbed the groceries and trailed behind.

"Where are your brothers?" she asked, taking the bag from Angel. She began to unload the groceries.

Bobby and Angel shared a look before Angel said,

"Jerry's in his room. And Jack..."

Evelyn stopped what she was doing when Angel didn't finish his sentence. Worry crossed her face. "He's not home yet?"

"No, he's not," Bobby said, his jaw tight. "But we're gonna go find him. And then I'm gonna kill him."

"Bobby," Evelyn said, fixing him with a look. "You can't go look for him like that. You'll scare him and he'll be afraid to come home."

Bobby nodded and tried to calm himself down. He was still angry and he still wanted to wring Jack's neck but he was in control. His mother was right. There was no use in making the situation worse.

"We'll find him," he said. "Let's go, Angel. Go grab Jerry." He turned and left without another word.

"Don't worry, Ma," Angel said, giving Evelyn what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "We'll bring him back."

Evelyn smiled and nodded in response. She had faith in her sons. She desperately tried not to worry but she had a feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Sure enough, that feeling was confirmed an hour later when her three sons returned. She ran to the door when she saw Bobby's car pull up and waited expectantly for them to walk in with Jack. When she saw that it was just the three of them, her heart sank. There was definitely something wrong.

"We couldn't find him anywhere," Jerry said as they hung up their jackets.

"I'm gonna call him again," Bobby said, moving past them into the living room. He grabbed the phone, dialled and waited. He made a face when he was met with only complete silence.

"What is it?" Angel asked as Bobby threw the phone down.

"Nothing," Bobby said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Dead air. It didn't even ring."

"I don't understand," Evelyn said, slowly sitting down on the couch. Tears of worry filled her eyes. "What could have happened to him?"

Bobby caught the eye of his two brothers. Both were silently telling him the same thing. Bobby knew what they were both thinking and he himself  
>knew what he had to do. He felt horrible at having to add more to his mother's worry but he had no other choice. Slowly exhaling the breath he had been holding in, he said,<p>

"We have to tell you something."

Quickly, Bobby explained everything; the car that had followed Jack, what they found out about the car and how they thought that it might have something to do with Jack's disappearance. Evelyn listened in silence as Bobby spoke and only came to attention when he was finished.

"We have to call the police," she said. She was trying to hold in her emotions; be strong for her sons.

Bobby couldn't help but scoff. "The cops in this town do shit all."

"Nah, man, she's right," Angel said, moving to sit next to Evelyn.

"They'll put out a missing person's," Jerry added. He sighed heavily. "We gotta find him, Bobby. Especially if someone took him. He could be in danger!"

"Fuck, I know!" Bobby said. He slammed his fist down on the coffee table. "Dammit!"

If anything happened to Jack, it would be his fault. He should have trusted his gut that morning when he felt something was wrong. He wasn't going to let something happen to his little brother; not on his watch. He grabbed the phone and handed it to Evelyn.

"Call 'em."

...

Have you ever had that feeling where you felt like you were falling? Like you had been pushed backwards from a high place and you just began to endlessly fall; down the proverbial rabbit hole. Jack felt like that-somewhere between conscious and unconscious. He was aware of a dull pain in his head but it was so far away that he wasn't sure if it was real or another part of his dream-like state. He felt like he was slowly floating downward in the black abyss for hours-maybe even longer. It wasn't a scary place and he didn't feel threatened but he wanted to get out all the same.

Suddenly, a light appeared beneath him. He started to fall quicker and quicker until he finally he was speeding towards the light. He went faster and faster until the light became so blinding that he had to shut his eyes against it. And just as he was about to hit the ground...

His eyes flew open.

He wasn't falling anymore, that he was sure of. He was gasping for breath as he took in his surroundings. He was in a dark basement with no windows. He couldn't make out where he was. The dull pain he had felt before turned into a splitting headache as he came to the forefront of consciousness. When he tried to move his hand to his head, he realized he couldn't move. Looking down at himself Jack saw that he was sitting on a chair with his hands tied securely behind him. Fear seized him almost immediately.

Where was he? Why was he tied up? Panic started to fill him as he desperately tried to twist himself free. But it was of no use. He was tied too tightly to the chair. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a breath. Having a panic attack wasn't going to help him get free. With his eyes still shut, he tried to think of the last thing he remembered doing. Mark and his brother drove him to their house after school and...

"No," he said to himself in disbelief, his eyes popping open. He shook his head. "No."

It was impossible. Mark was his friend, why the hell would he do something like this to him? No, there had to be some kind of explanation for this. But a few minutes later, his thougts were confirmed.

"Jack?"

Jack looked up, towards the wooden stairs, and his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Mark walking down the stairs. Mark looked nervous and he stopped at the bottom step. They stared at each other for a few moments in silence, both of them waiting for the other to speak. When Jack couldn't take it anymore, he spoke.

"What the hell, man?" Jack exclaimed. When Mark avoided his eyes and didn't answer he asked, "Why am I tied up in your fucking basement?"

Mark shook his head. "I can't-I'm sorry." His voice was low and defeated. "I didn't have a choice."

"You didn't have a choice?" Jack echoed in disbelief. "What the hell does that mean?"

Mark jumped when he heard someone walking above them. Fear filled his face and with a murmured apology, he sped up the stairs and shut the door behind him. He watched him, disbelief and the sting of betrayal coursing through him. He truly thought Mark was his friend but he ended up being another person who had only pretended to care and ended up letting him down.

Jack struggled to loosen the ropes but it was all in vain. He stopped after a while; tired. His first thought was of his family and how worried they must be. Bobby would no doubt be pissed. But his brothers would do anything and everything to find him. Even though he had fought to be independent and had pushed them away, he knew he needed them. He wanted them to come and save him.

His only hope was that they would find him soon. Or-at least before it was too late.

...

"This is fucking ridiculous!"

Angel eyed Bobby, who was pacing the living room back and forth. "Calm down, Bobby."

"Calm down?" Bobby repeated. He stopped pacing and stood in front of Angel. "How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? Some freak has Jack and the police are doing shit all!" He sat down on the couch and huffed. "Fuck, man. I don't fucking believe that those dicks make you wait twenty four hours. A lot of shit can happen in twenty four hours."

Angel didn't have an answer for Bobby and so he sat back against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. Twenty four fucking hours! He still couldn't believe it. Not that he would expect any more from the Detroit police force. When Evelyn had called the police the previous night, they told her they would have to wait a full twenty fours before a missing persons could be put out for Jack. It was normal procedure and Bobby knew that but this wasn't just anyone; it was Jack, his little brother. But nothing could be done; they had to wait.

The night had been particularily tough for all of them. Evelyn was determined to sit up the whole night, waiting in case Jack did come home. Bobby sat with her and they both waited in silence. Angel and Jerry had gone to bed after midnight though they didn't get much sleep. Evelyn eventually succumbed to sleep but not Bobby. He sat in the same position all night; waiting. Just-waiting. He hated feeling so helpless. Bobby was the type of person to take matters into his own hands. He wasn't the sit-around-and-wait type. But sometimes there are situations where all you could do was wait and so he did. When the morning came and Jack didn't come home, he felt something change inside of him. He would find his brother. And he'd kill the son of a bitch that had him.

Evelyn drove to the police station first thing in the morning. She was determined to get the police to help them right at that moment instead of waiting until the twenty four hour period was over. But again she was told the same thing-it was standard procedure to wait twenty four hours in case the person showed up. She left the most recent picture of Jack she had-it was taken only a few weeks prior-and left the station feeling defeated and worried.

Now they all sat in the Mercer house; still waiting for something-anything-that they could do. Evelyn was on the phone steadily, calling everyone she could think of to ask if they had seen Jack or knew anything of his whereabouts. Camille had come over to show her support for the family and for Jerry. Bobby and Angel sat side by side in the living room, either of them not knowing what to do or what to say. To say there was tension in the air was an understatement.

"Fuck," Bobby muttered again, slamming his fist into the couch. Angel looked at him but said nothing.

And then the shrill ring of the phone cut through the air. Everyone's breath caught in their throat as they waited for Evelyn to answer. At a time like this, a phone call could be bad news; news that none of them wanted to think about it. After a few minutes of quiet conversation, she walked into the living room, Jerry and Camille in tow. Bobby studied her face and felt relieved when he didn't see anything that meant bad news. All that was there was the worried expression that seemed to reside permanently on her face since the night before.

"What is it?" Angel asked before Bobby could form the words.

"It was the police," Evelyn said. She paused for a few moments. "The lieutenant I spoke to this morning just put out the missing persons for Jack."

"It hasn't been twenty four hours," Bobby said dryly. He shook his head and exhaled. "Sorry. Well at least it's something."

"They'll find him," Evelyn said with more confidence than she felt.

Bobby didn't answer. He more than hoped that Jack would be found. If anything happened to Jack it would be his fault. And Bobby Mercer already had enough guilt to shoulder without adding his younger brother to the mix.

...

At three thirty that afternoon, the circumstances in the Mercer house were still the same. Everyone felt helpless and worried-Bobby seemingly most of all. He was growing impatient and tired and soon, he'd take matters into his own hands; even if it meant doing something he probably wouldn't be proud of later. For Jack, he didn't care. For Jack, he'd do anything.

The few hours that had passed since the police opened the missing persons for Jack proved to be uneventful. It was impractical to expect anything to happen on the first day but Bobby, as he said countless times, was getting more than impatient. He refused to go anywhere for the moment, not wanting to miss if someone called or showed up. Camille took Evelyn out; she wanted to talk to the school officials to see if they knew anything about Jack. Jerry and Angel stayed at home with Bobby.

A few minutes after the clock chimed three thirty the doorbell rang. The sound reverberated through the silent house, notifying all of its occupants of someone's presence. Bobby was up in flash; Jerry and Angel behind him almost as quickly. He pulled open the door roughly, wanting to get to whoever it was fast in case they had news about Jack. Or in case-by the grace of God-it was Jack. But when the door opened the three Mercers saw someone they didn't expect or even knew.

A short teenage girl of about Jack's age stood on the doorstep looking unsure and a bit nervous. She looked like she could almost be the girl version of Jack. She wore black jeans clung to her legs like they were painted on and a white shirt with a leather jacket with sleeves that were too long. Pin straight black hair under a red and black hat hung down to her waist. None of them had seen her before nor had Jack made any mention of her. She bit her lip and waited a few seconds before speaking.

"Is this the Mercer house?" she asked, her voice seeming to be too deep for such a small girl.

"Jack isn't home," Bobby said as a response.

She was taken aback for a few seconds. "No I was-"

"We're kinda busy right now," Bobby said quickly, cutting her off. "Come back another time."

He began to shut the door but a small hand with perfectly painted black nails shot out to stop it halfway. The girl pushed the door back open to reveal a surprised looking Bobby, Jerry and Angel. The girl didn't look nervous anymore but more annoyed. She pushed the door back open and fixed Bobby with an "oh no you didn't" glare.

"Dude!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "I came here to talk to the Mercer brothers." When Bobby didn't looked phased she added, "It's about Jack."

Those three magic words did the trick. Bobby stepped aside to let Lissa pass. She stepped past him into the house and looked around curiously at the new place. She didn't, surprisingly, look at all nervous about being alone in a house she had never been in with three strange men. Once they were all seated in the living room-Lissa on the couch, Jerry beside her, Angel in the chair and Bobby standing with one foot on the coffee table-the questions began.

"Jeez!" Lissa said with a scoff. She looked Bobby up and down. "I can see everything Jack said about you is true."

"Who are you?" Bobby asked, ignoring her remark. He wasn't in the mood to play games. If this girl knew something about Jack then he wanted to know what it was right that very second.

"Lissa Diamond," she replied. "I'm a...friend of Jack's I guess you could say. I go to school with him."

"Not to be rude," Jerry cut in before Bobby could say something that probably would be rude, "what are you doing here?"

"Yeah," Angel said. "Do you know where Jack is?"

Lissa thought for a moment, searching for the right words. "I-uh-well kind of. Not really. I'm not entirely sure."

"Well which is it?" Bobby asked impatiently. "Do you know where he fucking is or not?"

Jerry gave Bobby a reprimanding look and Angel just shook his head. Sometimes Bobby didn't know how to use tact-even in front of women. Angel scoffed internally. And their mother wondered why Bobby's relationships never lasted.

"Look," Lissa said, her voice rising slightly. Her expression conveyed annoyance and it was clear that she had a well-hidden but fiery temper. "I didn't say I know where he is. I came here to tell you about when I last saw him."

Jerry leaned forward. "When was that?"

"Yesterday, after school," Lissa explained. She thought back to the day before. "I sometimes meet with Jack after school just to talk and-well anyway, I was standing outside the school and I saw Jack get into this car-"

"Whose car?" Bobby asked. His impatience was getting the better of him. "Who did he leave with?"

"It's probably nothing," she said. The uncertainty in her voice betrayed her.

Bobby was adamant. "Who?"

Lissa took in a breath then blew it out slowly. "The new kid. Mark Sydney."

The three Mercers shared a look and Lissa picked up on it. It gave her a little stirring of worry in her stomach. Something she thought was odd the day before seemed to progress into something more in the past few seconds.

She looked to each of them before asking, "What?"

"That motherfucker told Angel he didn't see Jack after school," Bobby said angrily. He began to pace the room. "I don't fucking get this!"

"He lied to you?" Lissa sounded incredulous. "I didn't-I thought it was odd that Jack left with them. I mean, I know he's friends with Mark. It just didn't seem right for some reason." She paused for a moment then with a shrug continued. "But I didn't think much about it until I heard Jack was missing. And then especially when I found out Mark didn't go to school today." She looked straight at Bobby. "I felt that I should come here and tell you."

It was silent for a few moments. Then something Lissa said registered in Angel's mind and he said,

"What did you mean when you said _'them'_?"

"A man came to get them both," Lissa replied. "I'm not sure who he was. I couldn't get a good look at him from where I was standing."

Again, silence filled the room while the three men processed this new information. Bobby didn't need to think about their next move; he already knew exactly what it was going to be. And when Jerry asked him he told him simply.

"We're gonna pay a visit to the little fucker," Bobby said. "And we're gonna make him tell us where Jack is."

"And if that doesn't work?"

Bobby didn't speak but instead took out the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Lissa couldn't help but gasp in surprise. It was a silver pistol that he had for years and always carried with him. He more than once referred to it as his baby. With something that resembled a smile, Bobby flicked the safety off and pointed the gun over their heads as if lining up a shot.

"Then we'll wing it, Jerry."

... 

After thanking Lissa and seeing her off, Bobby and the others spared no time going to Mark's house to confront him. Bobby was a madman on the road; more than usual, anyway. He paid no attention to stop signs or speed bumps and he got them there in less than five minutes. Bobby was angry; more than angry. If there was one thing Bobby Mercer hated-and Bobby hated a lot of things-it was being lied to. Those who had lied to Bobby in the past didn't end up having bright futures.

Bobby swerved the car into a parked position and killed the engine quickly. Before he could get out of the car, Angel grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What?" Bobby snapped, shrugging off Angel's hand. He was in no mood.

"Just calm the fuck down," Angel said. "Don't go pulling out no guns."

Bobby rolled his eyes and huffed. "I think I can fucking control myself."

Jerry had to hold back a scoff. "Don't shoot up the place okay, Bobby?"

Bobby didn't answer; he pushed open the car door, slammed it behind him and didn't bother waiting for Angel and Jerry as he made his way up to Mark's front door. Ignoring the doorbell completely, he began pounding on the door. He pounded hard enough to knock it down. After a few seconds of waiting he was about to pound on the door again when it suddenly swung open.

Mark stood in the doorway, looking surprised at the three men standing on his doorstep. He recognized Angel from the night before and figured that the other two were Jack's other brothers. The look Bobby was giving him scared him and he had to struggle not to let it show. Looking at Bobby, he felt a faraway sense of familiarity. He did remember him; vaguely at least. On Bobby's face there was no indication that he recognized Mark. Only anger rested there.

Bobby didn't waste any time on pleasantries. "Where is he?"

Mark felt fear choke him and the words he had planned to say died in his throat. Chester never told him he had to deal with a confrontation like this. For a brief moment he considered telling them everything and letting them come in and save Jack. But his loyalty to Chester still held strong and he dismissed the idea. He took a breath and looked straight into Bobby's face.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Mark said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Save it," Bobby said before Mark could even think of continuing. "We know he fucking went home with you. So you better starting saying what I want you to say."

"Okay, okay," Mark said, holding a hand up in surrender. The wheels in his brain were spinning madly as he tried to think of what to say. The words tumbled out as they ran through his mind. "He was here. After school, that is. We were hanging out and we lost track of time. But he left."

"Why did you lie to me?" Angel asked from beside Bobby.

"Umm-I-" Mark stammered. He wasn't good at thinking fast. "He said he would get in trouble for coming home late. So he made me promise not to say anything if his brothers came looking for him. He said he'd go home eventually."

"Well he never came home, genius!" Bobby said. He had the urge to smack this kid but he knew it would only cause more trouble.

Mark did he best to looked shocked. "What?" He saw the looks of worry on each of their faces and he felt horrible inside. But he couldn't do anything about it. "I-I didn't know. I swear. I didn't go to school today."

"And why didn't you?" Jerry asked from the other side of Bobby. He had been silently listening up until then. "You don't look sick."

"I, uh, had a really bad headache," he said. He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his head. It wasn't entirely a lie-Chester had gotten a little angry and hit him the night before. When the Mercers didn't say anything he said, "I swear I don't know anything else. Jack's my friend, I'd tell you if I knew anything."

Bobby inhaled and held the breath as he thought of what Mark said. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He shared a look with his brothers and it was clear that they couldn't do much more. Bobby tried to look past Mark into the house but the kid had the door more than halfway closed behind him. Finally, he took a step back.

"Fine," he said. He looked at Mark menacingly. "You hear anything you fucking come tell us understand, kid?"

Mark nodded and then turned and went back into his house. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath leaving him in a loud whoosh. He felt himself grow shaky. He couldn't believe he had just done that. He faced the three Mercer brothers and he didn't fall flat on his face. But he wasn't proud of it and doing what he did made him feel sick inside.

"Good job, brother."

Mark jumped at the sound of Chester's voice. He didn't realize he had been watching the whole thing from the living room. Mark feared that if he spoke, he'd either scream or throw up so he just gave his brother a curt nod.

"Let's go have a talk with your friend," Chester said, clapping Mark on the shoulder.

Mark sighed to himself and followed his brother into the basement like an obedient dog following his master.

…

Bobby felt his frustration rise as he, Angel and Jerry walked back to the car. He ripped open the door and roughly slammed it when he was in the car. His frustration grew and he felt himself being taken over by anger once again. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel, the sudden noise causing Angel and Jerry to jump.

"Fuck," Bobby said. He slammed the steering wheel a few more times. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Jerry didn't even know what to say. "Bobby..." he began but his sentence trailed off. What could he say?

Silence filled the car and after a few moments, Bobby started the car and began to drive. No one said a word as the car slowly traveled down the streets; they were in no hurry now. Bobby looked straight ahead, seemingly at the road. There was no doubt though that he was lost in his own thoughts and his navigation was on auto-pilot. Angel and Jerry occasionally shared glances-Angel in the front seat, Jerry in the back-but no words were spoken until they reached home.

Bobby pulled in to the house and silently shut off the engine. Evelyn still wasn't home; her car wasn't parked in its usual spot. Even though they were home, no one moved to get out of the car. Angel and Jerry were waiting for Bobby to make the first move. After what seemed like an impossibly long time, in reality only a few minutes, Bobby spoke.

"Call Julian," he said, turning to look at Angel.

"What?" Angel asked, a curious yet confused expression on his face. "You think he can help?"

"Dude's supposed to be good at finding things," Bobby replied. "We have something for him to find." He took his cell phone from his jacket pocket and threw it to Angel. "Call."

Angel looked down at the phone in his hand and then to Jerry who just nodded. "Okay, Bobby," he said, flipping open the phone and dialling. It rang a few times before someone on the other end picked up. "Julian? It's Angel Mercer. We need your help."

As Angel explained their situation to Julian, Jerry tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Bobby didn't bother to turn around.

"What?"

"Bobby," Jerry sighed. "Are you sure you wanna get Julian Connors involved in this? The police are on this."

"What the fuck do the cops know, Jerry?" Bobby said in reply. "Detroit cops don't do shit! Half of 'em are dirty and the other half don't give a shit!"

"But Bobby-" Jerry began but was cut off by Angel.

"What the fuck do you mean you can't help us?" Angel was saying. "You always say you can find anything! No, but-"

Bobby grabbed the phone from Angel before he could go on. He was angry. "You listen to me you little vampire fuck! You're gonna help us find our brother or I will come over there and personally put a bullet in that fuckin' empty head of yours!" Bobby was silent for a few moments as he listened. "I don't care what you have to do, you're gonna fuckin' do it if you wanna live." A few more seconds of listening in silence. "Good."

Bobby flipped the phone closed and threw it down on the seat. He had the urge to punch the steering wheel again. No, not punch it; he wanted to rip the steering wheel off; to use it to beat the shit out of whoever had Jack. He wanted to do a lot of things but he forced himself to stay in control. Going on a crazy rampage wouldn't solve anything and it wouldn't help them find Jack. And finding Jack was his main priority now. Revenge would come later.

Bobby broke from his reverie and looked over to Angel when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find him, Bobby," Angel said, giving Bobby's shoulder a squeeze.

"I know," Bobby said though his voice was nearly deadpan and held no confidence. I hope so, he added silently. I hope so.

...

_I didn't have a choice._

The words echoed through Jack's mind all night and day as if stuck on a never-ending loop. He was awake most of the night, trying to find the meaning in his friend's-or his so-called friend's-words. How did he not have a choice? How could anyone not have a choice in kidnapping another person? Jack didn't understand. And Mark wouldn't even talk to him when he came down in the morning to give him a drink of water. Jack was left alone to wonder why he had been taken and why he was tied up in the basement of someone he thought he trusted.

Then there was a moment he thought he'd be saved for sure. Faintly he had heard pounding as if someone was pounding on the front door. There was a lot of muffled conversation but Jack realized that it was Bobby. He wanted to scream out and make as much noise as he could but earlier in the day, he had been gagged. Still, he tried. He screamed and tried to move the chair but it was all in vain. He wasn't heard and eventually Bobby and his brothers (he assumed) were gone. It was enough to make tears come into his eyes. But he didn't allow them to fall. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

After he heard his brothers leave, he heard the basement door open and this time, two people came down the stairs. It was Chester Mark's brother, Jack figured. He hadn't come down until right this moment. Jack didn't pray often but right at that moment, he begged God to not let him die. Chester came down the stairs first and Mark was trailing behind with his head down. Despite the fear coursing through him, the sight of Mark caused anger to stir inside him.

"Well, well, well," Chester said with a grotesque smile. He looked Jack up and down like a predator sizing up his prey. "Look what we have here!"

Jack couldn't help but scowl. "Why did you do this to me? I never did anything to you, I just met you!"

Chester chuckled like Jack made a funny joke. "No that's right you didn't."

"Then why am I here?" Jack asked again. He tried twisting his wrists but it was of no use. He was too tightly bound. He looked at Mark who couldn't meet his gaze. "I thought you were my friend! Why did you do this to me?"

Mark didn't answer and continued to look down at the floor. He couldn't bear to look into Jack's eyes and see all the hurt and confusion. If he did, it meant that he would have to really face what he had done. He wasn't sure that he could do that. The guilt would surely consume him. So he kept his gaze downward and his voice silent.

"Fuck you," Jack said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You do this to me and you don't even have the decency to tell me why I'm here!"

"I'll tell you why you're here, kid," Chester said suddenly. He leaned down to look into Jack's eyes. His face was deadly serious. "Your brother killed my brother."

...

_Bobby gasped involuntarily and let go of his friend at once. Realization came rushing at him and the force of it made him turn and be sick in an old crate. When he was done, he once again met the eyes of his grieving friend. But grief was no longer there; it had been replaced by anger. Bobby's reaction had given him away._

"_You did this to him?" the shorter of the two demanded. "You gave him that shit?"_

_Bobby shook his head; all words in his vocabulary failing him. His friend came towards him with his arms outstretched, ready to attack. So Bobby Mercer did the only thing he could. He turned and ran as fast as he could._

_He ran all the way home. But the last words he heard were ones that would never stop haunting him._

"_I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS BOBBY MERCER!"_

…

**A/N: **Ahhh crazy! LOL! Hope that was a good chapter for you and another sort of cliff-hanger. I promise I will update faster than soon but you all gotta review first! So, get to it! Until next time…. -Addie


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hey everyone! 2012, I can't believe it! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year! Sorry for being a week late but I was busy then sick. But here it is! And I promise to get back to my updating every two weeks. I just want to say thank you for all the reviews, keep them coming because they inspire me! So without any further ado, here is chapter 7!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. No I do not.

…

**Chapter 7:**

Jack stared at Chester with disbelieving eyes. Had he heard him right? Bobby killed his brother. No, Jack told himself firmly. No, that couldn't be true. Bobby wouldn't do that. Not to an innocent person. Chester was watching him, a sick smile spreading on his face. Jack's reaction was giving him great satisfaction. Mark stood behind his brother still, looking downward.

"He didn't," was all Jack could manage. His voice didn't sound as strong as he intended.

"Oh yes," Chester said, still having the smile on his face like an evil Cheshire cat. "He really did." When Jack just glared he continued, walking around and gesturing animatedly. "Well, not physically, anyway. But aiding in someone's death is enough, don't you think, Jackie?"

Jack threw an angry glance Chester's way and set his jaw. "Don't call me that."

"Whoa-ho!" Chester said. He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm so sorry, Jack." A few moments of silence passed. By this time Jack had given up struggling so now he just sat and waited. "How is Bobby?"

"What did Bobby do to you?" Jack asked, ignoring Chester's remark.

Chester's face became deadly serious in a flash. "I told you. He killed my brother." He turned to cast a quick glance at Mark before looking back at Jack. "Our brother."

Jack was still disbelieving. Chester could say it a million times and he still wouldn't believe it. Bobby was his brother; he looked up to him and admired him even if he did piss him off most of the time. But he knew his brother and he knew, though Bobby had done many things and maybe even had killed someone before, Bobby would never hurt an innocent person.

Jack wanted more than anything to get out of there. He didn't want Chester to say anything anymore; he just wanted to go home. But curiosity got the best of him as it often does.

"How?" he asked. Chester grinned once more. Mark looked like he wanted to get out of there as much as Jack did.

"I'm glad you asked," Chester said. "I've been meaning to tell you."

Jack didn't say anything. He just wanted to know. But Chester was torturing him and he knew it.

"This might come as a shock to you," Chester began sarcastically, "but your brother isn't much of an upstanding citizen of the law." He chuckled to himself. "But you already knew that." He moved about as he talked, his voice low at times and high at others. "Eight years ago, your brother-Bobby-was in Colorado. Did you know that?"

Jack shook his head. His voice was quiet. "I didn't know him then."

"Oh!" Chester exclaimed, slapping his own forehead. "That's right! Silly me, I forgot you were adopted. It makes it so much sweeter!" He clapped his hands loudly then to get himself back on track. "Anyways. Bobby moved to Colorado to pursue his silly little hockey dream. And that's where he met me. We were friends."

He gritted his teeth when he said the word "friends" as if it caused him pain. Jack still didn't know where Chester was going with this but he felt his anxiety twist his stomach into knots. He hadn't known Bobby eight years ago; Jack came into the Mercer family only five years ago. Maybe Bobby was different when he wasn't around.

"We got into some trouble," Chester continued. "And there was seemingly only one solution."

"W-w-what?" Jack didn't want to stutter but his nerves were taking over.

"Your precious brother and I had to sell drugs for a very prominent drug lord we owed money to," Chester said. He chuckled at Jack's expression. "Shocked? Learn something about your brother you didn't want to know?"

Jack gave a slight, silent nod. Mark hadn't moved from his spot but his face was filled with emotion as Chester went on. Jack, though he was in his own shock, felt bad for him.

"So we sold drugs," Chester finally continued. He still paced back and forth, his hands moving as he spoke. "And it was fine; it only was for one week. I admit-I had fun." Seriousness returned to his face. "But on our last night it all changed." He turned around, finally focusing some attention on Mark. "Right, Mark?"

Mark's head snapped up and he looked fearful. "R-right," he croaked.

"Our brother Sidney was a great kid," Chester said, suddenly changing the subject. "A real straight arrow, you know? The kid never did anything wrong. He was supposed to go onto bigger and better things."

Supposed to. The words sent chills up and down Jack's spine. He suppressed the urge to shudder. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. He didn't want to know anymore but he was curious.

"Sidney was out with his friends one night," Chester said. His jaw was set tight as he spoke. "His friends bought drugs and gave some to Sidney. I was walking when I saw a body lying in an alley. It was Sid. He was already dead."

Jack didn't know what to say. It was horrible, he couldn't imagine losing one of his brothers. Mark's face was filled with pain as memories of his dead older brother flooded him.

"Bobby sold them the drugs," Chester said. Anger was evident in his tone. "Your brother sold my brother drugs and he ran!" He screamed the last word and both Jack and Mark jumped.

Jack didn't know what to say or how to react. He was confused and scared. It was beginning to look like Chester was planning to exact revenge and he was scared to find out how. Chester locked eyes with Jack. His tone was serious and almost dangerous.

"And I'm looking to return the favour."

Jack felt his eyes go wide and by staring into Chester's eyes he felt his worst fears being confirmed. Nothing had to be said for the meaning of Chester's words to be clear. Even Mark looked up, a new wave of fear washing over him. If Jack didn't get out of there soon-he was going to die.

...

Early the next morning, when the sun was still low beneath the horizon, Evelyn awoke and made a decision to drive down to the police station. She had waited long enough already and she, like her sons, decided to take matters into her own hands. Jack was her son; he was her responsibility as was his safety. The police weren't moving fast enough as far as she was concerned. And so, with a determined look upon her face, Evelyn Mercer walked into the police station. A young, dark-haired officer sat at the front desk.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked as she approached the desk.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "I'd like to see Lieutenant Winters, please."

"Umm...sure," the young officer said. He stood up. "I'll go see if he's available."

A few moments later, Lieutenant Winters-the man she had spoken with the night Jack didn't come home-rounded the corner, the young officer behind him. Lieutenant Winters was a tall man, close to middle-aged, with dark hair and a moustache. He didn't look surprised to see Evelyn there. She had quite a reputation at the Detroit Police Precinct. She was always in there for some reason or other; complaining about an injustice or trouble in her neighbourhood. Most of the cops knew her by name.

"Hello Ms. Mercer," Winters greeted, offering her a warm smile. "What can I help you with today?"

"I want to know how the investigation for my son is going," Evelyn replied. She didn't have time for small talk.

Lieutenant Winters nodded as if he expected her answer. "Right this way, ma'am."

He led her to an investigation room where they sat down at the table. After politely declining a cup of coffee, Evelyn dove right into her questioning. She, like any worried mother, wanted answers and she wanted them now.

"Did you find anything?" she asked. "Any leads? Anything at all?"

Winters shook his head. "No ma'am, we didn't. Not yet. I'm sorry. We're doing all we can."

"I appreciate that, Lieutenant," she said. "I just want to find my son."

"I understand," Winters said, nodding sympathetically. "We will find him." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Do you know of anyone who might know what happened to him? Any friends or other relatives who might have seen him last?"

Evelyn thought for a moment. Jack wasn't one for friends; he didn't have many. But he did have Mark. He and Mark had been seeing a lot of each other since the school year began. She remembered Bobby coming home fuming the day before. He, Jerry and Angel had been round to Mark's house and Mark confessed to lying about Jack's whereabouts. She looked up at the expectant Lieutenant Winters.

"There is one boy," she said. "Jack became friends with him when he started school."

"Mark Sydney?" When Evelyn nodded he said, "We already questioned him. He told us he hadn't seen your son since they parted ways after school on the day he disappeared."

"That's wrong," Evelyn said. "My son-my other son-spoke to Mark yesterday. Mark confessed to my son that he lied. The last place Jack went was Mark's house."

She had caught Lieutenant Winters' attention now. He wrote the information down in his notepad quickly.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Ms, Mercer," he said, standing up. She stood and followed him out the door. "My partner and I will question Mr. Sydney right away."

"Thank you," Evelyn said.

They shook hands and parted ways then. Evelyn didn't feel one hundred percent satisfied but she did feel a little better. Every new bit of information gave her the slightest sliver of hope. And she hoped that Jack would come home soon.

...

Bobby was already annoyed when he walked into the living room that morning. His sleep was restless and the breaking point on his worry meter had long since been passed. Annoyance, anger, worry-they seemed to have permanently settled within him. Anything would set him off now. So when he walked into the living room and saw his brothers on the phone instead of ready and waiting for him, his impatience was understandable. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, waiting to see if either of them would notice him. They didn't.

Both Angel and Jerry were talking on their cell phones to their respective girlfriends. They both stood with their backs to each other and to Bobby. Both were too engrossed into their conversations to pay attention to anything around them.

"Come on, baby," Angel was saying. "I promise we'll get together soon."

"You go ahead and decide," said Jerry into his cell phone. "I'm sure what you pick will be beautiful."

Bobby stood still for a few more seconds, waiting for either of his brothers to notice that he was standing right there. Impatience gave way to annoyance and was on its way to becoming frustration. This was typical of his brothers, he thought. Or rather, typical of anyone in a relationship. It was the exact reason he didn't want a girlfriend. What was the point of having a woman nagging you every second of the day when you could have a different one every week; no strings attached? He was confident that he would never change his mind on the subject.

Seeing that his brothers were no closer to hanging up then they were before, the impatient Bobby decided to take matters into his own hands. He stalked into the room and grabbed the phones from Angel and Jerry. He put one to each ear and said,

"He'll call you back. He's fucking busy!"

He snapped both of them closed and threw them back. It was Angel and Jerry's turn to look annoyed.

"Bobby! What the fuck?"

"Come on, man!" Jerry said. "I was talking to Camille!"

"Oh I'm sorry," Bobby said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Was I disturbing you? I must have forgotten that your little soap operas come before your missing brother!"

Angel and Jerry shared a look before adopting apologetic expressions. "Sorry, man," Angel said. "We didn't-"

"Yeah yeah," Bobby said, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. He moved past them to sit on the arm of the couch. "We need to fucking do something."

"What can we do?" Jerry asked with a shrug. He was just as frustrated and worried. "Drive around the streets? Bang on doors? Shoot up places?"

"I'm not gonna sit here all day, Jerry!" Silence passed between the three of them for a few moments. "Let's go talk to Connors again."

Angel sighed. "It hasn't even been a day, man."

It was clear from his expression that Bobby did not give a fuck. His mind was set and he was determined. He stood and silently made his way to the front door, grabbing his jacket and keys and leaving. The front door slammed loudly, the sound echoing throughout the empty house. Angel and Jerry looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

"Come on, let's go," Jerry said, motioning for Angel to follow him.

Angel followed Jerry out of the house to meet Bobby in the car. It seemed like they were stuck in some sort of vicious cycle; going around and around in circles but getting nowhere. It was tiring and the Mercer brothers didn't know how long they could last without going completely crazy. The only saving grace would be finding Jack soon. Before it was too late.

...

Jack was alone in the basement again. After telling him the story of his dead brother, Chester disappeared upstairs. Before he left, he gave Jack a look that made his blood run cold with fear. Chester was travelling down the road of revenge and he didn't show signs of stopping anytime soon. Mark followed his brother when he left; truly an obedient servant to his master. As angry as he was at Mark, Jack couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him.

The following two hours were spent trying to loosen the ropes around his wrist. Jack would try everything he could; twisting his hands, pulling at the rope, trying to get it over one hand. Nothing was working. If anything, he was making the ropes tighter. He toyed with the idea of using his lighter. It was in the back pocket of his jeans. But he couldn't quite reach it. The tips of his fingers would brush it but he couldn't get a grip on it. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he gave up.

I can't die like this, he thought to himself. I'm not going to be murdered by some psycho. I'm not going to die like this.

Suddenly, the door at the top of the rickety wooden steps opened and Jack held his breath, fearing the worst. God only knew what Chester would do to him now. He braced himself and waited. When he saw that it was only Mark coming down the stairs, he let out of a sigh of relief. Mark looked the same as he had before; nervous and avoiding Jack's eyes. Jack was beginning to grow tired of it.

"If you had the guts to do something like this then you should have enough to look at me."

Mark slowly rose his head and finally looked at Jack. He looked like a scared little kid; like he wasn't sure what to do or say for fear of getting in trouble. Jack was tired, hungry and scared; all he wanted was to go home.

"Why?" was all he could say. He knew why; he just wanted to hear it from Mark. How could Mark pretend to be his friend just so he could do something like this?

Mark stole a glance towards the stairs, thinking about charging up them. It only lasted for a few seconds though. The guilt had been eating away at him ever since he met Jack and became good friends with him. He figured the least he owed him was an explanation. With a sigh that made it sound like his heart was cracking, Mark sat on the bottom step. It was silent for more than a few seconds before he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry," Mark said. He looked at Jack tied in the chair and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. "I'm really sorry. I didn't have a choice."

"What does that mean?" Jack asked, sounding angrier then he intended to. "You have free will. You had the power to walk away at anytime! You could have told me."

"But he's my brother," Mark protested.

"Well fuck him!"

There was a silence that hung in the air for a few moments before either of them spoke. Mark and Jack stared at each other during the tense silence, neither of them knowing what to say at this point. A sudden creak from above them caused both of them to look up. Mark's eyes went wide with fear and he looked like he was ready to bolt in case it was Chester coming down the stairs. But it was only the house settling. Mark looked behind himself at the door to make sure before relaxing.

"You aren't doing this out of loyalty to your brother," Jack said after witnessing this. It was a statement rather than a question. "You're scared of him."

Mark turned his gaze down towards his hands; embarrassed. "Yeah I guess I am," he said when he finally looked up again. "Aren't you?"

"Me?" Jack echoed. He raised his eye-brows at Mark. "Of who, my brother? Bobby?"

Mark nodded. "Well yeah. He's kinda scary-looking. And you always say how he's on you to be home on time and stuff. And..." Mark wasn't sure what to say so he let his voice trail off.

"What?"

"That time in gym," Mark said. When Jack still looked confused he added, "You have a huge scar on your back. And lots of little ones."

Jack tensed up at that. He never liked talking about the stories behind all his scars. But it was a completely absurd idea that Bobby would ever do that to him. Bobby-and Jerry and Angel-understood. They were quite possibly the only people in his life that completely understood. Bobby may be an intimidating man and Jack was sure Bobby wanted to smack him more than a few times but the fact remained clear. Bobby would never do that to him.

"Bobby didn't do that," Jack answered. "Bobby wouldn't. That's-another long and complicated story. But Bobby wouldn't." He studied Mark's expression. "Does your brother...?" Jack let the question hang in the air.

Mark didn't need to say anything; the answer was clear on his face. Jack felt a pang of pity as he watched Mark. He couldn't imagine being afraid of his own brother. Anger still boiled inside of him from Mark's betrayal but still, he felt bad.

"I'm sorry," Jack said and he really was. He struggled a bit through his bonds. "Let me go, man." His eyes were pleading. "Just let me go and we can both get out of here."

Mark seemed to be considering it; standing up to his brother and helping Jack. For a fraction of a second Jack felt a sliver of hope. But the sound of the front door opening then slamming shut dashed his hopes. Mark jumped to his feet at the arrival of his brother. Fear filled his face once more. He looked back and forth between Jack and the basement door; torn.

"I-I-can't," he stuttered, starting up the stairs. "I-I'm sorry, Jack."

"No! Mark, wait! No!"

It was too late. Mark was already up and out the door before Jack could finish his sentence. He hung his head with a sigh and angry tears burned his eyes in spite of himself. His want to go home was strong but he was beginning to feel that maybe he would never get there.

…

When Julian Connors answered the door late that morning, he wasn't surprised. Bobby Mercer and his brothers had been frequenting his house in the last few days. He definitely didn't like Bobby-maybe even hated him-but he did feel sorry for him. He considered saying a snide comment but the look on Bobby's face stopped him. He stepped aside to let them in.

"Angel, Jerry," he said as they entered. He may have stopped a snide comment but he couldn't keep the disdain out of his tone. "Bobby."

"Always a fucking pleasure," Bobby replied as he walked past Julian. He grimaced as he looked around the dirty house. Fucking vampire, he said silently.

Julian led them to the kitchen where they sat on dark wooden chairs that looked like they once used to be white. Julian leaned against the counter and slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding. He didn't know what to say. He had no answers to offer them. In silence they sat for what seemed like an hour but in reality was only a minute or two. Sooner or later someone had to speak. Angel and Jerry didn't know what to say; it was Bobby who insisted on coming to see Julian. Bobby wasn't sure he wanted to say anything. He knew he would only be disappointed. And Julian was afraid of incurring Bobby's wrath and getting punched in the face.

So they sat in silence. Angel, ever patient, was the one to finally break.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he said. Everyone looked at him. "We all know why we're here."

Julian sighed. "I'm sorry, man." He ran a hand through his wild red hair. "I haven't found anything."

"Great," Bobby said. He expected as much. "So all we fucking know is that a car was following Jack, a Canadian car, and now he's gone."

"Are you sure it was Canadian?" Jerry asked, looking at Julian.

"It had Canadian plates," Julian said. He shrugged. "That could mean anything, though. It's not necessarily a Canadian. Just a car that was bought in Canada."

"What the fuck are you on about?" Bobby snapped. His patience was running out fast.

"Someone could have been looking for Jack," Julian explained. "For some reason, they went to Canada. While they were there they bought a car."

Bobby thought about it for a second. It could be possible. But the thing that bugged him was that someone going through all that trouble to find Jack. Jack was a sixteen year old kid, he had no enemies. Who the hell would be after him?

"It doesn't make sense," Angel said. "Who would be looking for Jack? In Canada?"

Julian shrugged. "Something in Canada must have made the person think Jack would be there."

Bobby scoffed. "What the fuck is in Canada besides hockey and igloos?"

"I don't think they have igloos," Jerry said. Bobby waved him off.

"Still," Bobby said. "There's no reason for anybody to be following him."

"Wait, wait," Julian said, an idea striking him. "You're all adopted right?" Bobby nodded and gave him a 'what's your point?' look. "Did you ever think it could be one of his birth parents?"

That caught the three Mercers off guard. Adopted children usually wonder about their birth parents, it's a natural thing. But some birth parents deserve to be forgotten. This was the case with Jack, and all of the Mercers. Jack, though, seemed to have the worst of them all. Bobby remembered when Jack first came to them. Jack was a scared kid who cowered when he saw his own shadow. Bobby got his hands on Jack's file one day, when Evelyn was out, and he was horrified at the things he saw and read. It stuck with him and would forever. Julian had a valid point. But it just wasn't a possibility.

"Impossible," Bobby said, shaking his head. "His real mother is dead. His father's in prison for killing her."

Silence covered the room once more. Nothing more could be asked or answered, said or done. The Mercers were going to leave Julian's with no answers once again. It was becoming increasingly frustrating but when there was nothing you could do, there was nothing you could do.

As Julian was escorting the Mercers out, the front door swung open, almost hitting Bobby.

"What the fu-" he began to say. His words were cut short when he saw who it was. He grimaced as if he just ate something disgusting.

Patricia Connors stood before him, a shocked expression on her face. She was the same height as Bobby and had curly dark hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back. She had darker skin and piercing green eyes that Bobby now avoided. She was Julian's real sister but you would never know it by looking at them. How a girl like that shared the same genes as her red haired, vampire brother Bobby would never understand.

"Bobby," she said, looking at him up and down. She tried to sound cool and aloof. She was mad at him but it was clear that she still liked him.

It took all the strength he had to grit his teeth and say, as nicely as possible, "Patricia."

"So, like, how've you been?" she asked, leaning against the door. She was chewing gum obnoxiously and it was making Bobby want to smack her.

Christ, I must have been drunk when I was with her. Still with his teeth pressed together he said, "Fine."

Angel and Jerry, despite the seriousness of the situation they were in, couldn't help but chuckle. Bobby turned to look at them, the 'I'm gonna kill you look' on his face, and they stifled their laughter as best as they could. Julian, of course, didn't look too happy but he was too afraid of Bobby to say anything.

"I haven't seen you in like a zillion years!" Patricia said. She put a perfectly manicured hand on Bobby's shoulder. "What have you been doing?"

He looked like he was going to explode. He shook her hand off as politely as he could; which for Bobby wasn't as polite as a normal person would be.

"Nothing," he said. "Oh look at the time. We gotta go." He motioned for Angel and Jerry to follow him.

Bobby was out the front door in a flash. Angel and Jerry thanked Julian before following him out. Patricia screamed out a goodbye from the doorway but Bobby didn't acknowledge her. When they were at the car Bobby spun around to look at his brothers.

"One laugh," Bobby said in a warning tone. "One fucking laugh and you can both walk home."

Needless to say, it was a long, cold walk home.  
>...<p>

Lady luck didn't seem to be on the Mercer's side for a long while now. After another long day of searching for answers, the three Mercer brothers returned home empty handed and no better off than before. Evelyn, having hit a road block of her own earlier, met them at the front door with the same morose expression they wore. It seemed that another restless night would pass them by; worry tearing at each of them as they all silently wondered if Jack was alive.

Bobby seemed to be taking it the hardest. Anger would fill him and burn within him. Then it would soon give way to gut-twisting worry that made him think all kinds of horrible things that could have happened to his brother. Was he dead? Alive? Hurt? Suffering? And always the question that snuck its way into his mind-Was it my fault? But before he could wallow in guilt and self-pity, his anger would return and the vicious cycle would start again.

That night, Bobby was alone in his room, his emotions wreaking havoc as they often did when he was out of sight of other people. He shut his eyes in an attempt to clear his thoughts enough to drift into sleep. One single thought made it past the wall he put up in his mind before he fell asleep.

"Where are you, Jack?"

In the basement of someone he once thought a friend sat Jack; so close to his own house yet so far away. He had been alone for hours; sitting in the dark, left to imagine what was inevitably going to happen to him. Horrible images of how Chester would kill him flashed through his mind and made his stomach knot and twist with each new thought. All he wanted was to get out of there, to be free again. He'd give anything to be back with his family.

It's funny how when something life-changing-or life-ending-is about to happen to you, all the things you did before come rushing back at you. The things you had said, did or felt. All the regrets you had, the good times and bad; everything that you could possibly imagine. It was like your life flashing before your eyes except in extreme slow motion.

Jack wondered if he would ever see his family again. Guilt now crept up inside of him and twisted his insides. The worry and trouble he caused his family in his act of teenage rebellion now made him feel sick. If he knew something was going to happen to him he wouldn't have acted so childish. And Bobby-he wouldn't have acted like such a brat towards him. He looked upwards, silently asking God to help him. Just get me through this, he prayed. Just get me through this and I promise I won't act like I did ever again.

He expected some sign, a sonic boom that would reverberate through the room or a blast of white hot light. But there was nothing. Just the same old basement with the creaky noises and the leaky pipes. He sighed to himself and prayed one more time before falling into a restless, nightmare-filled sleep.

...

**A/N: **Okay! And there you have it! Hope you enjoyed it! Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you and until next time! -Addie


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hey everyone, as always I LOVE your reviews! Thanks a bunch for reading and reviewing, you are all the reason I update every two weeks! Here is chapter 8!

**Disclaimer: **Yeah. No.

**Dedications: **Shia Zen, this is for you. :D

...

**Chapter 8:**

Jack had been working on his ropes for close to three hours when he finally had a breakthrough. He was twisting his hands, working carefully to try and find a way to untie himself. After the first hour he developed a system. He found that if he turned his hands too much to the right, the ropes would pull and become tighter. And if he turned his hands to the left, the ropes would loosen up. Most importantly, when he turned his hands to the right and then to the left in one swift motion, the ropes would tear the slightest bit.

About two hours later-he didn't really have a sense of time so he had to guess-his hard work paid off. He had worked tirelessly, turning his hands to the right and to the left over and over again when finally, the little rip in the rope began to get bigger. He could hardly believe it when the ropes came apart in his hands. Jack was still for a few moments, unsure of what to do. He had been tied up for so long it seemed.

When Jack stood up from the chair, he nearly fell back down again. Sitting for so long and not having much to eat and drink made him weak. His first few steps were tentative and he rubbed at the angry red rope marks on his wrists. A creak from above him set him into motion, his fear providing him with a rush of adrenaline. He had to get out of there and he had to do it fast.

Jack slowly made his way up the stairs, slightly crouched and ready to take on Chester if he caught him. He wasn't going to let this happen to him, not like this. Bobby and his brothers always made fun of him for being weak and were always treating him like he had to be coddled and protected. He'd be lying if he said he didn't wish his brothers would save him. But where were they? They hadn't found him yet. He would get himself out of there.

Jack reached the top step and he put his ear to the door, listening. The other side was silent and he took a deep breath. It was now or never. His hand curled over the doorknob and after a split second of hesitation, he slowly pushed the door open. Stepping into the dark hallway was even more nerve-racking. The front door was so close. He could be out and on his way home in five seconds. But he was scared.

An object on a small table to his right caught his eye. He walked over and picked it up. What once was his cell phone now was now a mangled heap of scrap. He put it down; he didn't have time to mourn over a phone he didn't care too much about in the first place. He spun to face the front door. It was the moment of truth now. A wooden door was the only thing separating Jack from his freedom. He stalked up to the front door now feeling more confident. It had two locks; a chain and a standard turn lock. He disabled both quickly and with an intake of breath, opened the door.

The air that blew onto his face was cold but he didn't care. He never thought he would see outside ever again. But his joy was short-lived. He didn't hear the creak of the stairs or the sound of footsteps behind him. He jumped when a hand came down on the back of his head. He was pulled backwards by his hair and spun around to face his attacker. Chester's angry face was inches away from his own. Fear once again coursed through him.

"Trying to run?" he said, still gripping Jack's hair tightly. It was all Jack could do not to cry out.

Chester slammed the front door with enough force to shake the entire house. He threw Jack into the door and he slid down to the floor. Chester stood over him.

"Big mistake."

Before giving Jack the chance to respond, Chester backhanded him. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, Jack thought about the brief taste of freedom he almost had.

...

_Eleven-year old Jack Mercer-just recently being officially adopted-sat on the couch in his new home with his knees tucked into his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and his head resting on his knees. He wore an oversize black hoodie that he looked absolutely lost in. He had managed to push himself deep into the corner of the couch; he was almost trying to blend in so that no one would pay any attention to him. If living in foster homes had taught him one thing it was that the less attention you brought on yourself the better._

_"Hey kid," a loud voice said. Jack wasn't expecting it and he jumped half out of his skin. "Hey sorry," Bobby said, slowly approaching the couch. He sat on the other end. "I forgot."_

_Jack didn't say anything. He pushed himself into the couch even more; if that was even possible. This was his third week living in the Mercer house but his first day living in the Mercer house as an official member of the family. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that; he never really had a real home before. Ms. Mercer and her sons-it would take some time to call then his mother and brothers-seemed nice enough but he had learned early on not to trust people. So he eyed Bobby warily and prepared to bolt from the couch if he needed to._

_"Hey kid, relax!" Bobby said. He stared at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of reply. Jack wasn't exactly forthcoming. "Are you hungry?"_

_Jack shook his head._

_"Thirsty?"_

_Again, Jack just shook his head._

_Bobby rolled his eyes in annoyance. He only had so much patience. "Do you know how to fuckin' speak?"_

_Jack eyes narrowed as he looked up at Bobby. "No," he said dryly._

_"My God," Bobby said in mock awe, "the kid fucking speaks! Sound the alarm."_

_Jack made a face at him but didn't answer. He turned his gaze nervously back to his hands. He felt the urge to get out, run and never come back. There hadn't been any signs of the Mercer house being a bad place but that's how they all started. Pretty soon they'd be yelling at him and locking him in his room and withholding food from him. Better to get out before it all started, wasn't it? Bobby read him easily; after all he had been in the same place once._

_"Thinking about running away?" he asked. Jack looked up at him then, his eyes filled with fear._

_"No, I-I-"_

_"Kid, I can see it all over your face," Bobby said sternly. "Don't bullshit me."_

_Jack looked terrified and like he would bolt any second. Bobby realized how he sounded and that Jack probably thought he was in trouble. He put effort into sounding less serious and intimidating._

_"It's okay," Bobby said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Calm down, kid. You aren't in trouble."_

_Jack relaxed a bit but he still didn't look completely convinced. Bobby fought back the urge to sigh-how the fuck did he get roped into babysitting the kid? His mother said some "brotherly bonding time" would do the kid well but all it had resulted in so far was a freaked out eleven-year old and a half frustrated Bobby._

_"Just trust me, kid," Bobby said, looking at him. "You'd be making a mistake if you ran away."_

_"I would?" asked the meek voice._

_"Fuck," Bobby replied. What was it going to take? "Yes you would be. This isn't like the shit places you were put in before. It's different."_

_Jack couldn't help but scoff. Every new place his social worker brought him to was "different." But in the end they all proved to be the same. What made this one different; actually different?_

_"Just give it some time," Bobby said, turning to look at Jack. "How about that? Give living here a chance before you take off into the Detroit winter. Okay?"_

_Jack considered it for a few minutes. He wasn't convinced but he also didn't want to live on the street; especially in the winter. "Okay," he said in a low voice._

_Bobby nodded, satisfied for the moment. It was silent between them for a few moments. "Hey," Bobby said. "You play hockey?"_

_Jack looked confused. He shook his head. "Umm...no."_

_Bobby looked shocked. According to him, every self-respecting American man should know how to play hockey. "Can you fucking skate at least?"_

_Jack shook his head once more and gulped. "N-no..."_

_"Jesus, kid," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "You're a Mercer now. Gotta teach you some fucking skills!"_

_Jack didn't answer and Bobby chuckled to himself. He felt the urge to reach over and ruffle the kid's hair but he held back. He didn't want the kid to flip out and have a spaz attack._

_"This is a good place," Bobby continued. "You'll see."_

_Jack nodded in response. He sincerely hoped it would be true._

...

Jack struggled against his bonds but it was of no use. They were too tight, even tighter than before. The last thing remembered was almost successfully escaping. He hadn't heard Chester come up behind him and he didn't have time to try anything before he was knocked out. He awoke in the basement and found that he had been tied up again; the ropes so tight he was sure they were cutting off his circulation. He didn't even bother trying after a few minutes of struggling. He knew he wasn't going anywhere.

Jack was too nervous to focus on escaping. Chester didn't exactly seem like a sane individual and Jack knew that he would be more than angry that he had tried to escape. It was a long time before he heard the basement door open and when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs; he braced himself for the worst.

"Well, well," Chester said as he stepped down from the last step. Mark followed behind looking as fearful as usual. "Seems like we got an escapee don't we, Mark?" he asked, turning to glance at his brother.

Mark stood still by the stairs and didn't say anything. Part of him wished that it was all a dream and that Jack really did escape. The rational part of his brain knew better.

"I don't appreciate what you did, Jack," Chester continued. He sounded like a disapproving parent.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered, sarcasm coating his words heavily.

Chester backhanded him as soon as the words left his mouth. Jack gasped in surprise and stared at him, wide-eyed. Blood formed on his lip. Fear ran through him like an electric shock. Mark stood still in the same spot but his face had contorted into an expression of horror.

"I can't have you escaping," Chester said, his voice rising with each word. "It isn't part of the plan!"

Fuck the plan, Jack wanted to say. Fuck you, he wanted to scream. But fear had a way of squelching everything inside of you until all you were left with was the fear itself; pure, undiluted fear.

"I was going to carry out my plan today," Chester said as he began to pace. "It was all set-up perfectly. But you had to go and ruin it. So I had to make a change." He stopped suddenly and spun around to look Jack straight in the eyes. "I've decided to kick things up notch."

The evil glint in Chester's eye made the blood in Jack's veins turn to ice. Fear washes over him again and he suppressed the urge to shudder. If he thought he was going to get out easy he was now sorely mistaken. Mark caught Chester's drift and it broke him out of his stillness. He pitched forward and grabbed his brother's arm.

"Stop, Chester!" he pleaded, tugging on his brother's arm. "Leave him alone!"

"What?" Chester growled in anger. He pulled his arm out of Mark's grasp. "You're telling me what to do?" He grabbed Mark by the back of the neck and threw him onto the steps. "Get the fuck out of here before I make sure you'll never walk again."

Mark looked at his brother, blood dripping down into his eye from a gash on his forehead. "Chester, ple-"

Chester raised his arm as if to hit him and Mark recoiled. "Now," he said menacingly.

Mark looked behind his brother to Jack who, though it pained him to do so, nodded at him to go. Mark stayed still for a few more seconds before charging  
>up the stairs and slamming the door behind him. Chester turned back to Jack, his lips spreading into an evil smile.<p>

"Now," Chester said, taking out a Swiss army knife from his pocket and flicking it open to reveal a shiny blade, "where were we?"

…

_"Jack?"_

_Jack spun around quickly, dropping the full glass of milk he held in surprise. It shattered when it hit the ground and milk splattered everywhere. Evelyn flicked on the kitchen light to reveal a wide-eyed Jack. He looked terrified and as if he might pass out any moment._

_"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry," he stammered. He pressed himself into the counter._

_She looked from him down to the mess on the floor then back to him and realized why he had reacted the way he did._

_"Oh no no, honey," she said, walking slowly towards him. "It's okay! Don't worry about it."_

_"I was thirsty," he said, feeling the need to explain. "And I didn't know what to do so I came down here and-" He stopped, fear making his words die in his throat._

_"It's fine," Evelyn said with a warm smile. "Things break twice a week in this house!"_

_Jack didn't look convinced. Evelyn moved toward him slowly and he pushed himself further into the counter. She stopped mid-step; she wasn't going to get anywhere if the only thing she did was scare him. She felt a pang of sadness in her heart as she looked at the small boy trembling before him. He had had such a hard life and never had a stable home. People in his life that were supposed to take care of him ended up leaving him or hurting  
>him. It broke her heart that such things could happen to a young boy.<em>

_"Come on, honey," she said. She motioned for him to come forward. "It's all right; no one's going to hurt you."_

_Jack looked to be thinking about it for a while before he took one tentative step forward. Evelyn smiled-she was getting through to him._

_"That's it," she said as he took another step. "It'll be okay."_

_Jack took another step and then another. He stopped when he was standing next to her. He looked uneasy like he might scream if she tried to touch him. Evelyn picked up on it and made sure to keep enough distance._

_"Would you like another glass of milk?"_

_Jack was hesitant but he nodded. Evelyn chuckled._

_"Okay," she said. "How about I get you another glass of milk and you go sit on the couch? Is that all right?"_

_Jack nodded again. He started to leave but he looked down at the broken glass and puddle of milk._

_"Don't worry," she said with a wave of her hand. "No crying over spilled milk!" She winked and it made Jack smile. "That's it!" she said. "Smile, Jack! I'll get your milk and meet you on the couch, okay?"_

_Jack nodded and headed towards the couch. As she poured a glass of milk for Jack, Evelyn hoped that he would be on the couch. All he needed was to learn how to trust. It was going to be hard but Evelyn was willing to work at it. When she stepped into the living room she was happy to find Jack sitting on the couch. He looked small and scared but at least he was there. Evelyn handed him the glass of milk and sat on the other end of the couch._

_"Are you all right?" Evelyn asked, watching as Jack sipped his milk._

_"I-I'm o-okay."_

_"Good." Evelyn took a breath before continuing. "I want to talk to you about something, Jack," she said. He looked scared again so she added, "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Can we talk?"_

_"Okay," Jack said his voice low and meek. Usually when people told him they wanted to "talk" it meant that they couldn't handle him and that they were sending him away._

_"I know you had a lot of bad things happen to you," Evelyn said. "But you need to know that you're safe here."_

_Jack looked up, genuine surprise on his face. She sounded like she meant it; her words were real. No one had ever spoken to him like that before._

_"You belong here," she continued. "Look at me," she said when he looked down at his hands. He met her gaze. "You will always be safe here. This is your home. Do you understand?"_

_Jack nodded and a very small smile appeared on his face. "Yes."_

_"I'm glad," Evelyn said a smile on her face and happy tears in her eyes. "Now, what do you say we go find some cookies to go with that milk?"_

_Jack grinned fully at her now. He felt something inside him that day that he had never felt before in his life. It was a warm feeling that spread throughout his body. It made him happy. Jack Mercer finally had a place to call home._

...

"Hey hey hey! No passing out allowed!"

Jack groaned as Chester slapped his face to get him to open his eyes. The last hour (at least he thought it was an hour-it felt more like a lifetime) was the worst of his life. The majority of foster homes he had lived in were bad, it was true, but nothing could come close to the pain-the torture-he was suffering at Chester's hands. It was slow, deliberate and cruel. Fleetingly he thought that death was far better than being alive and suffering.

_Where were his brothers?_ He never wanted them so bad in his life. And like the saying went, "you never know what you have until it's gone," Jack realized that he had been acting wrong the whole time. Getting mad at Bobby, being distant, worrying them; Jack had done all those things and he was sorry. He had been wrong and stupid and he was sorry. He begged God to let his brothers find him. He was more than sorry and he just wanted to go home. He made promises that he would never act the way he did again just please let him go home. Please, he prayed silently, please save me.

"Don't zone out on me now, Little Mercer," Chester said, walking towards him. He leaned forward, his face close to Jack's. "It's no fun if you're unconscious!"

Jack glared but didn't answer. What was the use? If he begged Chester would laugh at him and call him a coward. If he shot off a smart ass remark, Chester would take the opportunity to beat the shit out of him again. Besides that, if he opened his mouth he was sure all that would escape his lips would be his screams. Jack wasn't sure that he could take any more pain. Chester already nearly killed him. Jack had a black eye from being punched and a bloody lip from when Chester hit him. Both his forearms had angry red lines from Chester's knife. And on his forehead, above his left eye, was a deep gash that bled profusely and blurred his vision. In a moment of defiance, Jack angrily fought back, kicking Chester with the leg that had come untied from the chair. Chester responded by taking a glass filled with water and hurling it at Jack's head.

"You can't get away with escaping," Chester said as he walked back and forth in front of Jack. He twirled his blood-encrusted knife in his hand. "I was in prison once and this one guy-young kid-tried to escape. Of course he didn't get very far. It's damn near impossible to break out of a maximum security prison. So this guy-he made it to the wall. The guards caught him just as he was trying to climb. And can you guess what happened to him?"

Jack shook his head numbly. Chester chuckled like he was telling a joke rather than a prison horror story.

"So the head guard drags him back inside," Chester continued, dramatically waving his hands as he spoke, "and he brings him smack in the middle of the fucking cell block so all the cons could see him. And he says, 'Your con buddy tried to escape. Now you're gonna see what happens if any of you worms try to do what he did.' "

Chester chuckled and did a little jump before he continued on with the story. Jack looked away, the sight of Chester making him physically sick. But Chester grabbed his face and made him look as he finished his story.

"Listen to this part, kid, it's the riveting part," he said, clapping his hands like an excited child. "So the guard throws the kid to the ground and he starts whaling on him! And then the other guards-they join in! It was fucking crazy watching this guy get his ass kicked. It went on forever. Then the head guard-Boss he made everyone call him-takes his gun and shoots the kid in the head. On the news they said the kid was shot while trying to escape. Pretty hardcore, huh? But," Chester said with a nonchalant shrug, "that's the price of escaping."

Jack shut his eyes against the tears that threatened to flow. He wasn't going to let Chester see him cry, he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. When he was positive the tears wouldn't fall, he opened his eyes and fixed Chester with a glare worthy of the Mercer name.

"There's always a price," Chester said, moving closer to Jack. The knife in his hand caught the light and it sent a shiver down Jack's spine. Chester bent down to look Jack in the eyes. "You tried to escape and kid, your payment is due."

Jack glared back at him, bracing himself for another wave of torture. His only hope that got him through the next hour was that it would all be over soon. 

...

_"Jackie, get your ass moving!"_

_"Do we have to go, Bobby?"_

_Bobby turned to Angel. "We always fucking play hockey."_

_"It's too cold," Angel complained. "It's below zero, man!"_

_Jerry nodded in agreement. "Maybe Angel's right. I planned to meet Camille later on."_

_"Christ, I didn't know I had sisters!" Bobby said with scoff. He banged his hockey stick against the banister. "Jack! Stop doing your make up and get the fuck down here!"_

_Jack emerged from upstairs looking tired and not enthusiastic to play hockey. To be honest, he'd rather go back to his room and take a nap. But Bobby wasn't taking any suggestions or complaints. He stood expectantly by the front door, hockey stick in hand._

_"Decided to finally grace us with your presence, Princess?"_

_"Fuck off," Jack said as he pulled on his black hoodie._

_The four brothers stood in the foyer; three looking bored and not in the mood and the fourth excited and grinning like an idiot._

_"Let's go, girls!" Bobby said. He picked up his hockey bag and walked out the front door._

_The other three shared glances and then reluctantly followed Bobby to the car._

_When they arrived at the rink, they found it to be completely empty. Bobby looked a bit disappointed. He had hoped for some other people to be there so they could get a pick-up game together. But it was cold and quiet and completely empty._

_"Where the fuck is everyone?"_

_"They were smart and stayed home," Angel muttered and Jerry, the only one who heard him, chuckled. Bobby gave them a look._

_"Okay two on two," Bobby said after a moment of thinking. He was not about to let anything get in the way of his precious hockey. "Me and Angel against Jerry and Jackie."_

_Great, Jack thought. Now Bobby had a reason to body check him into the boards and send him flying across the ice. He shook his head as he and Jerry got into their position across from Bobby and Angel. This was going to be one long and crazy game._

_Jack was right about Bobby body checking him; multiple times. One time he sent Jerry clear across the blue line. Jack and Jerry managed to get them back a few times though Bobby laughed it off and said he would have to make men out of both of them. At one point, the score became close and there even seemed a chance of Jack and Jerry winning. But in the end, Bobby and Angel won and by a landslide to boot._

_"Can we go home now?" Jerry asked, brushing ice off of his pants._

_"It's freezing out here," Angel added, rubbing his arms through his thick winter coat._

_"You guys are fucking sissies!" Bobby exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "I wanted to go another couple of rounds."_

_"You're crazy," Jack said plainly through chattering teeth. The cold easily seeped through the fabric of his hoodie and he seemed to be in a constant state of shivering. But he still wouldn't wear a coat. He hated them._

_Bobby looked at each of his brothers and rolled his eyes."Let's go get a fucking drink, then."_

_"Hey," Angel said. He nodded towards Jack. "What about him?"_

_"What about me?" Jack asked, raising his eye-brows._

_"You're 14."_

_Jack shrugged as if to say "so what?"_

_"Johnny'll let him in," Bobby said without giving it a second thought. He wasn't much of a responsible adult at times. "Now let's fucking go already!"_

_The three brothers again followed the fourth, though the prospect of a drink suited them better than a hockey game in Arctic-type weather. The Mercer family was definitely crazy, Jack thought as he climbed into the car. Sometimes he honestly didn't know how his mother handled the four of them without going completely insane. They were definitely not like any other quiet, normal family he'd seen. Not that he had much experience in that area. Still, he knew that his family was a little less than normal. And he never, in a million years, would trade them for anything._

...

Chester entered the small kitchen with a gleeful smile on his face. His hands were covered in blood that wasn't his own and his white t-shirt had a few splatters of it. Mark couldn't even look at him without feeling sick. This whole thing was a mistake and it ripped Mark apart inside. He could have stopped it at any time. He could have saved Jack and the Mercers all of this turmoil. He had been a coward. But not anymore.

"Chester," he said with a shaky voice. "We can't do this. It's not right."

The smile disappeared from Chester's face in an instant. "What?" he asked, his voice low and menacing. "What did you just say to me?"

Mark gulped in fear but he stood his ground. "You hurt him enough, you don't have to kill him!"

"His brother killed your brother," Chester said. "Or did you forget that?"

"No, I-"

"Someone kills a member of your family and you let it go?" Chester threw the glass he had in his hand against the cabinet. Mark jumped. "What kind of brother are you? Sid is probably rolling over in his grave!"

"I don't-"

"No!" Chester yelled. Mark didn't even have a chance to speak. Chester grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him forward. "Don't you even try to fucking speak to me! You are a disgrace to your family!"

Chester threw Mark down to the floor causing him to land on the broken glass from the glass Chester had thrown. He kicked Mark in the stomach a few times and once in the head.

"You disgusting little rat!" Chester screamed, continually kicking his brother as if he was a soccer ball. "You better watch it, Mark. I have no problem throwing you down there with your friend. Do you want that?"

Mark didn't move, didn't speak. He felt more like a failure than anything. He finally got up the courage to stand up to his brother and he was beat down in a total of three seconds. Chester had kicked him so hard that blood came out of his mouth. He shut his eyes and waited for Chester to be finished with him.

"That's what I thought," Chester said finally. He was breathing hard. "Now you listen to me, Mark. This is all ending soon. And when I say soon, I mean tomorrow."

Mark looked up at his brother then, horror crossing his features. Chester only laughed.

"That's right, brother," he said, the gleeful smile returning to his face. "When I'm done having my fun, it's over. The kid dies tomorrow."

...

That day could possibly have gone down in history as one of the worst days anyone in the world could have experienced. But Jack was undeterred. He was beaten, bloody and broken but he wasn't ready to give up; not yet. When Chester caught him escaping, he was angry and he made sure to tie the ropes tighter. He even tied Jack's ankles to the chair's legs for good measure. But Jack wasn't about to just sit there. He was a Mercer after all, wasn't he?

He found that the same system of turning the ropes left and then right still worked, though because of how tight they were it would take him twice as long. Sure enough, his hard work and determination paid off. It took him nearly five hours but after he was done, he was able to pull free from the ropes. He quickly untied the thick ropes around his ankles and was on his way up the old stairs. This time around, he wasn't going to waste any time. He was determined to get out.

Once upstairs, he slowly walked down the dark hallway towards the front door. Unlocking the door was easy and he was able to do it quickly. The only moment of hesitation came when he had his hand on the door knob. Could it be this easy? He was about to find out. He pulled open the door and practically threw himself out the door.

And he was back where he had started in the basement. For a few moments he looked around the room, confusion adorning his features. How could that even be possible? He had stepped out of the front door and now he was back in the basement. He didn't understand. Hr didn't have time to ponder it, though, because the room began to get dark around the edges, like a movie that was fading to black.

Jack's eyes flew open suddenly and he gasped. At that moment and he realized that he had never moved. He was still sitting in the chair, tightly tied with no chance of escape. His second escape was only a dream and the realization felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped on top of his head. Jack promised himself he would be strong and he wouldn't show his weaknesses and be the vulnerable kid his brothers thought him to be. But waking up from the dream was too much from him and he couldn't stop the silent tears that formed in his eyes. They fell down his face and mixed with the blood that had long since dried there. What else could he do? He had one opportunity, one chance to be free and he failed.

There were only two ways to go now; all possible windows of opportunity had been slammed shut by the cold hand of fate. Jack could pray that his brothers would find him soon or hope that his death was quick and painless.

Either way, his choices relied heavily on hope. And Jack Mercer wasn't sure he had any hope left.

...

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed it! Was it good? Tell me in a review, please! Thanks again! Until next time…. -Addie


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Okay okay, here we go! Hello everyone! Again, your reviews are amazing and they make me want to write this more and get it out fast. And here is Chapter 10….

**Disclaimer: **Do I have to say it?

**Chapter 9:**

...

_"Bobby that piece was mine!"_

_"Cry me a fucking river!" Bobby said through a mouthful of pizza. Angel scowled and crossed his arms._

_"You gonna cry, Angel?" Jerry asked, laughing loudly. Angel flipped him off but he only laughed harder._

_"I could give you the pizza if you really want it," Bobby said with a grin. "But I can't guarantee it's gonna taste good."_

_"Fuck off," Angel mumbled. He had only had three pieces of pizza while the last slice was Bobby's sixth._

_Angel had been in a mood all day and Bobby being a stealing rat wasn't helping matters. He wanted to get him back for acting like such an asshole. A smile crept onto his face when he thought of what he was going to do From his position across from Bobby, he waited for the right moment. Jack was sitting on the other side of the couch, next to Bobby, and he saw Angel what Angel was about to do. He covered his mouth to hide his snicker. Jerry was too busy staring at the TV to notice anything_

_Angel waited until Bobby picked up his beer. With a quiet laugh, he grabbed the cushion from behind him and launched it at Bobby. The cushion flew through the air and hit Bobby square in the face. The beer bottle was knocked out of his hands as he was knocked backwards. The bottle hit the edge of the table and shattered, the beer splashing every which way. Angel and Jack burst out laughing and Jerry, after noticing, joined in a second later._

_"Fuck!" Bobby screamed. He glared at Angel angrily. Now it was Angel's turn to have the smug smile. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Bobby yelled._

_Angel jumped up and bolted into the kitchen, laughing crazily. Bobby took a leap over the coffee table and chased him. Jack and Jerry were dying of laughter at the whole scene and they ran after them._

_Angel stood by the sink, holding something behind his back. Bobby was near the doorway._

_"I'm gonna kill you," Bobby threatened a second time._

_Angel laughed. "You ain't gonna come near me!"_

_"The hell I won't!" Bobby stepped forward to grab him but stopped dead in his tracks when Angel revealed what he was holding behind his back. The kitchen sink was the kind that had a detachable faucet. Angel had pulled it out all the way and now had it aimed at Bobby. One hand was on the handle, ready to switch the water on. Jack and Jerry skidded into the kitchen just in time to see Bobby's eyes widen slightly with incredulity._

_"You wouldn't fucking dare," Bobby said. His eye-brows were raised in amusement._

_"Go ahead," Angel said with a full grin. "Come at me!"_

_"Looks like you gotta give up, Bobby," Jerry said, laughing. "Too bad."_

_"Yeah," Jack added. He was laughing at the sheer awesomeness of the situation. "Give up!"_

_Bobby scoffed. "Shut-up you fucking retards!"_

_Jack and Jerry shared a look and then both made their way to stand behind Angel. Angel's smile was so big it looked like he was going to split his face wide open. Bobby's eyes widened more and he looked annoyed. A look of mock hurt and betrayal crossed his features._

_"You all hurt me," he said. His look changed to menacing then. "Open the water and you know you're all fucking dead."_

_"Should I?" Angel asked._

_Jerry nodded. "Definitely."_

_Jack smirked. "Allow me." He reached over and turned the handle. Cold water blasted from the faucet, full force._

_Bobby shielded himself and he exclaimed loudly when the freezing water hit him. Every curse word under the sun escaped his lips and he moved forward, trying to grab onto the faucet. He grabbed it and fought Angel for it. It sprayed the entire kitchen as they wrestled over it and by the time Bobby pried it from his hands, the entire kitchen was dripping with water. Bobby, dripping wet, aimed the faucet hose at them._

_"My turn!"_

_The cold water hit Jerry, Angel and Jack and now it was their turn to scream obscenities at him. The three moved to grab the faucet from him and in their fighting, the faucet wrapped around their legs. All at once the four brothers slipped on the wet floor and they all landed with a resounding thud. The faucet hung from the sink, spraying water upwards. For a few moments they lay there, trying to catch their breath._

_Evelyn walked into the kitchen right at the moment and for a few seconds, all she could do was look around in stunned silence. She shook her head._

_"I don't want to know," she said and left the kitchen._

_It was silent for a few more seconds and then the laughter gave way. The Mercer brothers burst into loud laughter at the whole situation. When they stopped, out of breath, Angel spoke._

_"Truce, Bobby?"_

_Bobby scoffed. "Fine. Truce."_

_Silence for a few seconds again before the loud laughter filled the small kitchen once more._

...

"It's time to play-why don't you love me any-revolutionary product-have a kit-kat bar-I want to tell-let's do it for joh-you are not the fa-"

Bobby sighed in disgust and clicked the TV off. There was absolutely nothing good on daytime television. Trashy talk shows, commercials, irrelevant eighties movies-complete and absolute crap. He didn't know how housewives did it day and day out without going brain-dead or throwing themselves out of the second story window. He had been sitting on the couch for less than five minutes and already he was fed up. He could sleep or go somewhere to pass the time but he was afraid to miss the phone if anyone should call with any news about Jack.

The days were passing quicker and quicker and no news about Jack was coming up. The police had nothing-as if that was a surprise-and Julian was running into brick walls everywhere he turned. Each day passing with no information was another nail in the proverbial coffin. And there was only a limited amount of nails. When the nails ran out...Bobby didn't even want to think about it.

"Bobby!"

Bobby broke from his thoughts to look at his brother. "What?"

Angel, leaning against the door frame, shrugged. "Just-nothing, never mind."

"What?"

"No-I was just-" he paused for a moment. Was it really the time to bring it up? He shook his head. "I was just wondering if you heard anything yet."

"I wouldn't be sitting here if I did," Bobby answered. He turned the TV on again, hoping something good would magically appear.

"Where's Ma?" Angel asked.

Bobby sighed as if speaking causes him great exhaustion. "Police station"

"Again?"

"Yeah."

Angel thought a moment. "And Jerry?"

"Out."

Silence fell between them then. Bobby paid no attention to him but to the TV instead. Angel didn't move from his spot against the door frame. He was so close to telling Bobby his secret but like always he chickened out at the last second. Besides, it wasn't the right time to talk about his plans for the future when his younger brother was missing; maybe dead. But he had to tell the rest of his family sometime. Man up, he told himself. You can do this. Taking a breath, he prepared to tell Bobby. The loud ring of his cell phone stopped him. He took it from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Yeah?" Angel listened for a few seconds. "Really? You sure, man?"

Bobby looked at him, a curious expression on his face. Angel put his hand over the phone and quickly said,

"Julian. Thinks he has something!"

That's all Bobby needed to hear. The TV was clicked off and he was on his feet in a matter of seconds. He grabbed his jacket and slipped into it as Angel hung up. He wasted no time pushing in Angel out the door.

"Let's go," Bobby said. "What did he say?"

"He said he found something," Angel explained as he shrugged into his coat. "Didn't say what but he said it was important."

"Then let's fucking go!

Bobby pulled Angel out onto the porch and then slammed the door behind them. Julian's phone call was the tiny sliver of light he had been waiting for. His only hope now was that it would be worth it.

...

"What the fuck is this?"

Bobby and Angel stood behind Julian, peering over his shoulder at the laptop screen in front of them. Bobby's brow was furrowed in confusion and annoyance was starting to creep in. Julian pointed at the picture on the screen.

"Look."

"I'm looking," Bobby said. "And all I fucking see is a guy in a black car."

"The black car," Angel added from beside him.

Bobby scoffed. "Right, sure. This would be great if the guy's face wasn't blurry!"

"It's been zoomed in," Julian explained. He was trying to keep his patience from disappearing. "You lose resolution when you zoom in. And it's from a traffic camera. They have shitty quality to begin with."

"Lemme ask you something," Bobby said, his annoyance quickly on the road to anger. "Why the hell would you call us here if the important evidence you have is fucking useless?"

"Bobby calm down, man," Angel said, putting a hand up to hold Bobby back.

"It's not useless!" Julian exclaimed. He poked at the picture again. "You can't see clearly but there are certain things you can make out."

Bobby wasn't convinced but he calmed down. "Like what?"

"Well look," Julian said, zooming in as far as the computer allowed. "You can tell that it's a man-"

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock," Bobby interjected.

Julian glared at him before continuing. "Very faintly you can see the hair colour. It's one the lighter side-I'm leaning towards a blonde or a light shade of brown."

"What else?" Angel asked, squinting at the blown up image.

"Here," Julian said, putting the mouse cursor on the side of the man's face. "Through the pixilation you can see that this man has some sort of facial disfigurement."

"Disfigurement?" Angel repeated. "Like-scars or something?"

Julian nodded. "Scars, pock marks, a burn, even. It could be anything. But there is definite facial disfigurement."

Bobby nodded, taking it all in. It wasn't much but it was a start. "Okay. Now do you think you can fix this?"

"Umm, I-" Julian stammered. "I didn't-I'm not sure if I can."

Bobby leaned down so that his face was near Julian's. "Just fucking try."

Julian nodded silently. Bobby stood upright and nudged Angel.

"Let's go."

Bobby turned and left without another word. Angel gave Julian a pat on the shoulder.

"Call me if anything."

"Sure thing, Mercer."

Angel left the room, hurrying to get out the front door before Bobby could start pressing on the horn and yelling at him to hurry up. Julian stared at his computer and sighed a long sigh at the work ahead of him before beginning.

It was going to be a long night for all.

...

_"Here you go, kid!"_

_The nervous fourteen year old kid who was looking behind his shoulder ever since he approached Chester, took the drugs and practically ran from the alley. Chester chuckled to himself as he pocketed the two fifty dollar bills. Kids today were hilarious to him. They wanted drugs but they were too chicken to buy them. He scoffed to himself. Stupid rich kids._

_"Sweet!" Chester said to himself as he counted the money he made that night._

_He must have looked like a lunatic, walking down the street chuckling and laughing to himself as the money count got higher and higher. He was downright giddy when he reached a thousand dollars. When the pay for the night topped out at 1700 dollars, he was pretty much flying down the street. To be truthful, he would kind of miss selling the drugs. It had nothing to do with the money-he didn't get to keep any of it-but more for the experience. Selling to these stupid kids gave him a sense of power. And he was really beginning to like power._

_"Who's awesome?" Chester said to his reflection in a store window. He popped his collar and struck a pose. "You are awesome, that's right!"_

_Someone walked past him and gave him a look and recomposed himself. He checked his watch and then hurried down the street. He was already ten minutes late in meeting Bobby. As he hurried down the nearly empty sidewalk, a bright flash of yellow caught the corner of his eye. It was the tip of someone's shoe. Apprehension seized him and he didn't want to see who was lying there. But curiousity beat out apprehension and he turned into the alley. When he saw the person lying on the cold ground, he dropped to his knees in shock._

_"Sid? Sidney?"_

_For a while he was frozen in that spot, on his knees, his eyes glued to the body of the young kid before him. Memories of the past were flooding through his mind; the equivalent of life passing before one's eyes. Life slowed down around him and the breath was being sucked out of him. Sid was-Sid was-He didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it true. But it was. The thoughts and memories stopped and he came out of his shock when he finally let the words pass through his mind._

_Sid was dead._

_With a gasp, he fell from his shocked haze and fell harshly back into reality. He fell forward on his hands and he crawled towards his brother. Sidney was pale and his skin looked like a light blue porcelain. Chester grabbed his dead brother by the shoulders and pulled him onto his lap. He touched his face and gasped at how cold it was. Chester stroked Sidney's hair and the tears fell freely._

_"Oh Sid," he said through racking sobs. "Please don't die on me, kid. You can't die, Sid, you can't die!"_

_Sidney hung limp in his arms. The light had long since disappeared from his eyes; eyes that once shone with life and vitality. Chester wept over his brother's body as he realized that Sidney would never talk again, never walk or run or laugh. Sidney would never do anything ever again._

_"Please, kid!" Chester pleaded through tears. He pressed his forehead on Sid's chest. "Please, kid, don't die. You can't leave me!"_

_With an anguished sigh, he laid Sidney down on the ground. He stood and still crying, he took his cell phone from his pocket with a shaking hand. He dialled 911. Chester sat with his back against the wall, watching over his brother's body until the police came. The police arrived less than ten minutes later. They questioned him and asked him if he knew anything. After a while the paramedics came to take Sidney away. Chester watched with tears streaming as his little brother was taken away._

_Chester was left alone. He was shaking and crying and had the urge to be sick. He wanted to collapse right then and there and never get up again. But he couldn't. Bobby was still waiting for him. With a burst of adrenaline, he ran to he and Bobby's meeting spot. Maybe Bobby could help him find out who did this to his brother._

_He didn't know then that Bobby would be the person he'd blame for Sid's death and the person he'd be hell bent on getting revenge on._

_... _

"Chester..."

"Don't say it," Chester said, raising one finger in warning. "Or I'll throw you down there with him."

Mark looked down and didn't speak anymore. Chester busied himself with the vial he was carefully unwrapping from a thin piece of plastic. Mark had tried to talk him out of it but it was all in vain. He couldn't bear to watch Chester anymore. His stomach was twisting with worry and guilt. With a defeated sigh he slowly made his way down the basement stairs.

Jack, of course, was still in the same spot-tied to the wooden chair tightly though not tight enough to cut off his circulation. Blood had dried on his face and some on the bare parts of his arms. A while back Chester stripped him of his jacket, leaving him only in a thin t-shirt. Jack looked up slowly when Mark came down the stairs. The anger and fear that seemed to permanently reside on his face had long since disappeared; acceptance of his fate taking over.

"Come to let me go?" he asked sarcastically.

"Don't," Mark said. His expression was pained. "You don't know how much I want to stop this."

Jack rolled his eyes. His voice dripped heavily with sarcasm. "I see how hard you're trying!" He shook his head and scoffed. "I see how you stand up to your brother and tell him not to kill me!"

"You think I didn't try?" Mark exclaimed. "You really think I want my brother to kill my fr-"

"What?" Jack asked when Mark stopped. "Your _friend_? I'm your friend? I'm sorry but I don't think friends assist in their friend's murder!"

Mark's eyes went wide at the word 'murder' and he stopped for a few seconds. "Jack," he said finally. "I swear I tried! I tried so many times but he kept beating me down!" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He gets so mad and he threatened to do to me what he's doing to you and-"

"And you'd rather save your life and let me die," Jack finished. With another scoff he said quietly, "Fuck you, man."

Mark looked torn and like he would cry at any moment. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm really sor-"

"Save it," Jack said, cutting him off. He sighed. "Listen, if I'm gonna die, I think I at least deserve a last cigarette."

"Umm..." Mark looked taken aback slightly. "I-I don't have any."

"I do," Jack said. "They're in my pocket. Can you get one for me?"

Mark looked hesitant and he glanced towards the basement door.

"Come on, man," Jack said. "It's only a cigarette."

"Well...okay."

Mark walked towards Jack after casting one more nervous glance to the basement door. Jack watched as Mark got closer. This was his only chance. When Mark was right before him and bent over, reaching for Jack's pocket, he took his chance. Jack kicked out with his leg and tripped Mark. When Mark, caught off guard, landed on the floor, Jack wrapped his legs around Mark's neck and held tightly.

"Jack-" Mark said, half-choking. "What-what are you doing?"

"I'm not letting your brother kill me," Jack said. "I'm sorry it had to be this way but I value my life a hell of a lot more than yours right now."

"Jack-"

"Shut-up!" Jack squeezed his legs tighter and Mark coughed and sputtered. "Now call for your brother."

"Chester!" Mark screamed when Jack loosened his hold a little. "Chester get down here! Ches-"

Jack tightened his grip before Mark could go on any further. He wasn't sure what he would do next. Mark was one thing but Chester, bloodthirsty for revenge as he was, would not be easy to take down. But he would take it one step at a time. He almost chuckled when he thought that Bobby would be so proud of him for 'winging it.' Chester didn't take long to come down stairs. When he saw what was going on, anger flashed across his features but despite that, he chuckled.

"Well, well," he said. "I didn't think you had it in you, Little Mercer. Bobby must have taught you well!"

"Nobody taught me," Jack said through clenched teeth. "I just don't want to die!"

"It's not about wanting is it?" Chester asked? He held something in his right hand but Jack couldn't make out what it was. "Sidney didn't want to die and yet he did! So excuse me, Jack, if I'm not sympathetic to your plight right now!"

"You can't kill me," Jack said. "I'm pretty sure if I squeeze hard enough I'll either choke him or snap his neck."

Chester looked impressed. "You'd kill someone to save your own life?"

Jack didn't answer. He didn't think he could actually kill someone. But he didn't want to be killed, either. A part of him hoped that Chester would back off. But the rational part of him knew Chester saw right through his bluff. Mark was silent through all this, trying not to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

"I know you wouldn't," Chester said with a laugh. "Besides, what would you do even if you did kill Mark? You're still tied to the chair, Mercer. You're going nowhere." Chester laughed again. "It's hopeless. It was a good try, kid. But you aren't getting out of here. Threaten me all you like. I'm not untying you."

Jack considered it and as he felt defeat came over him, he prayed to God that his death would be quick. He let Mark go and Mark scrambled away, coughing and catching his breath. Chester smiled like a Cheshire cat while Jack had to fight to keep angry tears at bay.

"Good," Chester said. "I'll make sure your brother knows you tried to put up a fight." He opened his right hand then and revealed the small vial and syringe he had been holding. "Here we go."

Jack felt his breath hitch in his throat. He knew full well what was going to happen next but he couldn't stop the words from coming out. "What are you gonna do?"

Chester smiled and held up the vial between his thumb and forefinger. "This right here is prime heroin-the good stuff! It's about 250mg. Just enough for an overdose."

Jack felt his eyes widen. He couldn't speak or think or even move. Fear crept back into his body and made him frozen. Mark looked down at the floor; he couldn't watch it.

"It'll be over soon," Chester said, moving closer to Jack. He quickly filled the syringe with the entire contents of the  
>vial. "It's a nice way to go I've heard."<p>

Jack scowled at him. "Fuck you. I hope my brother kills you slowly."

Chester laughed outright at that. "Oh, kid, you're brother isn't going to kill me. I'm going to kill him!" With that, Chester grabbed Jack's arm and prepared the syringe. "Now, what is it they say! Oh right! This will only hurt a little."

Jack sucked in a breath as Chester pushed the needle into his arm. The liquid passed from the syringe and into his system quickly. It was only a matter of seconds before the world dimmed around him and his consciousness slipped away from him.

...

"Nothing?" Bobby asked Evelyn as she walked into the living room from the kitchen.

"I'm afraid not."

Bobby scoffed and shook his head. He knew it! What else should he expect from Detroit's finest? Evelyn had just gotten off the phone with Lieutenant Winters. It was the fourth time she called that week-he was probably annoyed with her by now. Still the police found nothing on Jack, even with the information they had about someone following him. It was growing more hopeless by the hour it seemed. Bobby looked at his mother and the expression on her face alarmed him.

"What is it, Ma?" he asked. "What else did they say?"

"Bobby..." she began tentatively and sat on the arm of the easy chair. "Lieutenant Winters said that usually in cases like this, after a certain amount of time-"

"No," Bobby cut her off, shaking his head. "Don't fucking tell me they're going to stop looking!"

"Watch your language!" she said more out of habit than anything. She softened. "Bobby-I want Jack to be found more than you do and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep his case going."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, well, can't wait around for the police to find him!" When he saw her worried look he said, "Don't worry, Ma. I'm not going to do anything." _Yet_, he added silently.

They heard the front door open and close quickly and a few seconds later, Angel and Jerry walked into the living room. Bobby looked at Angel expectantly but Angel shook his head slightly.

"Hear anything?" Jerry asked hopefully. He tried hard to keep his spirits up but it got harder with each passing day.

"Nothing yet," Evelyn said. She offered a small, tired smile. "Hopefully soon."

"Yeah, right," Bobby said. He was tired and angry and worried and he didn't know what to do anymore.

"Bobby, listen-" Angel began but was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

Bobby was up in a flash. He was suspicious-who'd be coming to their house during the day? Nevertheless he rushed to the door and was the first one to open it. The sight he saw before him could make anyone's blood run cold. Jack lay still on the doorstep, his eyes  
>closed and his skin a pale blue. Evelyn screamed and knelt down to grab him.<p>

"Jack?" she called, shaking him slightly. "Jack!"

Angel and Jerry looked horrified and they dripped to their knees beside their fallen brother. Bobby was next to his mother and he took over, shaking Jack.

"Jackie, come on, wake up!" he said frantically. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and threw it at Jerry. "Call the ambulance, now!"

Evelyn held Jack in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she stroked his hair. He wasn't responding. Bobby grabbed his wrist at once, frantically feeling for a pulse. A small wave of relief swept over him when he found one. It was faint but it was there.

"He's alive," Bobby said. "Hurry up with the ambulance!"

"They're coming! They're on their way!"

It wasn't until then that Bobby noticed a black car parked in front of the house. In the driver's seat was Mark-Jack's friend from school. And sitting in the passenger seat was someone he thought he would never see again. Shock passed through him like an electric current. All at once, memories came flooding back to him; memories he thought were buried too deep to ever resurface. He knew then why everything had happened and why his little brother lay dying in front of him. He stood at once and stalked over to the car, ignoring Angel's call to him. He stood by the rolled down passenger window and stared into the face of someone he had once called a friend.

"Well, Bobby Mercer," Chester said with a smile that made Bobby sick. "It's been a while."

"You did this?" Bobby screamed. "You fucking did this?"

"Looks like," Chester replied still holding his smile. "Revenge is sweet, my friend."

Bobby growled in anger and started to lunge at the car. He wanted to pull Chester through the window and rip his throat out. Chester anticipated his actions and he raised the gun he had been holding. Bobby stopped dead in his tracks, his hands up and his eyes widening slightly.

"You're gonna kill me now, Chester?" he asked bitterly.

Chester chuckled. "Oh no, don't be silly, Bobby. I want you to suffer your brother's death first like you left me to suffer mine. Then you can come and find me and we can settle this."

"I'm going to kill you," Bobby said, his voice serious and his eyes radiating hate anger.

"I'll be waiting."

Chester signalled Mark, who had been looking ashamedly down at his hands the entire time, and they drove off, leaving Bobby standing there. He turned and ran back to Jack, his mother's cries snapping him out of his shocked state. He knelt by his brother just as he heard the sirens blaring in the distance.

...

**A/N: **All right, there you have it! I hope it was crazy and good and that you are all jumping in your seats. It would make me happy, truly. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! Until chapter ten! -Addie


	10. Chapter 10

**Addie An: **Hello there my favourite readers! :D How've you been? I've been good myself, a little crazy but good! And, because I didn't want to torture you with the wait, here is chapter ten! Don't forget to review later!

…

**Chapter 10:**

…

_Bobby didn't stop running until he was sure he was miles away from where Chester was. The only stop he made was to grab his meager belongings and after that he ran and ran until he felt like his lungs would burst from the effort. He stopped in a deserted alley to catch his breath. Leaning against the cold brick wall, he gasped and coughed._

_"Shit," he managed to gasp out. He was bent over, hands on his knees, breath coming out in short bursts. "Fuck."_

_The events of the previous hour were beginning to hit him; a lightning bolt of realization striking him. Sidney, the kid he knew and regarded as a brother, was dead and it was no one's fault but his own. The thought that he aided in a young kid's death struck him physically and he was sick all over the cold ground for the second time in less than an hour. When he was finished, he stood upright and inhaled deeply. What he had to do was clear in his mind._

_He had to go home._

_There was no other way around it. If he stayed, Chester would kill him. He deserved it and probably more but he also had a family. He didn't want to die at 21 years old, on the streets like everyone he met expected him to end up. He wanted to be home with his mother and his brothers and forget this ever happened. His guilt would always be there and he would punish himself for the rest of his life but he wanted, needed, to go home._

_After taking another breath to steady himself, Bobby grabbed his bag from the ground where it had fallen and turned out of the alley. He flipped up his hood so his face would be covered and headed to the bus station. He turned his back on Colorado and the bad things that had happened there and he never looked back._

_If he knew what would happen eight years later, he would have faced Chester then and there. But of course, life just doesn't work like that._

...

If Bobby Mercer was one hundred percent sure of anything in his life at that moment in time, it was that waiting rooms were the worst form of torture for anyone to endure. He'd like to get his hands on the sick bastard who invented the waiting room and show him what real torture was. It wasn't just the invention of the waiting room that was bothering him but more the waiting itself. Bobby was anything but patient to begin with and having to wait to hear if someone he loved was alive or dead was far worse than anything else he would have to endure in his life.

They had been waiting for nearly two and a half hours since Jack was taken into the operating room. It was silent almost the entire time-save for when Jerry asked if anyone wanted coffee. The Mercers were the only ones in the waiting room that day; an odd thing considering the crime and accident rates in Detroit. The four sat in the worn out purple chairs, identical expressions of worry on each of their faces. They was silent but it was clear that each had a thousand questions burning through their minds.

Bobby knew his family wanted an answer from him but he couldn't give it just yet. He was in his own mind, re-living parts of the past that he thought he locked away for good. Old guilt crept its way back from the depths in which he had buried it and a new, fresh wave of guilt washed over him. In his mind he repeated the same thing over and over again until it became like a mantra.

_It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault..._

He was the one who started it. He sold the drugs to Sidney. Guilt hit him like a punch in the stomach when Sidney flashed through his mind. Bobby hadn't thought about him in eight years and the memories made him sick. He, though inadvertantly, had brought this on himself. If he wasn't such a bad person then he wouldn't have gotten into a situation in which he owed money. If he wasn't such a bad person he wouldn't have sold drugs, drugs that got an innocent teenager killed. If he wasn't such a bad person he wouldn't be sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting to find out the fate of his little brother.

He groaned inwardly, putting his head in his hands as he silently repeated his new mantra.

_It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault..._

"Ms. Mercer?"

Bobby looked up when he heard the gruff voice of the doctor. Evelyn, Jerry and Angel were on their feet. Bobby rose slowly as his mother looked worriedly at the doctor. Dr. Solomon, a tall man with a bushy grey moustache and a head of grey hair, offered them a smile.

"He's all right," he said and a collective wave of relief washed over them all. "He was brought here just in time. We were able to save him before the drugs reached his heart. He's in stable condition."

"Is he awake?" Evelyn asked, tears of joy falling from her eyes.

Dr. Solomon shook his head. "He's still unconscious. He will wake up. But when is up to him."

"Thank you, doctor!" Evelyn said, grabbing his hand. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "May we see him?"

"Of course," Dr. Solomon said, smiling warmly. "Are you all family?"

"We're his brothers," Angel said and the doctor nodded.

Dr. Solomon led them into the room where Jack was. Bobby stood frozen in the waiting room for a moment. Bobby was relieved to hear that Jack was alive but the relief didn't aleviate the guilt. Would Jack really want to see him after all the pain he caused him? For a moment, he wanted to turn and run out of the hospital. But Angel called to him and with a deep breath, he followed his family into the room.

...

The hospital room was small and quiet. Its walls were painted a light blue that pretty much looked white and all that adorned it was a small night table with one drawer next to the hospital bed. It was private, Jack being the only one in the room. The only sound in the  
>room came from the heart monitor that was attached to Jack. It beeped steadily, keeping an eerie sort of rhythm.<p>

Evelyn, Jerry and Angel walked straight into the room and approached the bed. Bobby hung back, leaning against the wall by the door. His arms were crossed over his chest and for the first few moments, he averted his eyes from the hospital bed. A little gasp escaped Evelyn's lips as she saw Jack and Bobby finally looked up. Jack lay still in the bed, a hospital gown hanging off of him and wires running every which way across his body. It was a difficult sight for his family to see.

"Oh Jack," Evelyn said softly. She grabbed his limp hand and held it.

Jerry and Angel walked over to the otherside of the bed, across from Evelyn, and looked down at their younger brother with pained expressions on their faces. Jack already looked frail and fragile when he was healthy but now, being sick and in the hospital, he looked even more fragile and vunerable than usual. Bobby hadn't moved from his spot against the wall. He watched the scene before him but his guilt prevented him from participating.

"It's my fault," Bobby said suddenly. His brothers looked up at him and Evelyn turned to face him.

"What do you mean it's your fault?" Evelyn asked, her expression set to confusion. She knew that there was something amiss about the whole situation but she didn't see how the blame could be placed on Bobby.

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Jerry asked, his eye-brows raising slightly.

"The person who did this," Bobby began. He paused, took a breath and then continued. "The person who did this did it to get to me."

"That guy in the car?" Jerry asked. "Who was he?"

Bobby looked at his family, at their waiting faces and shut his eyes for a moment. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. As he spoke, he looked down at the linoleum tiles, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Eight years ago, I went to Colorado," he began.

He didn't move or raise his eyes as he told the story from his past. And he told the entire story. He told them how he met Chester and how they got into trouble with a drug dealer. He explained how Chester made a deal with the drug dealer and how they had to sell drugs to pay their debts. He explained-with some difficulty-how he sold the drugs that killed Sidney and how when Chester found out he ran.

When he finished, the room was as silent as tomb. They all were shocked at his story and for the first few minutes, no one said anything. Finally, the sound of Angel clearing his throat filled the room.

"So-the guy following Jack?" Angel asked.

"Chester."

Jerry looked at him, his mind putting two and two together. "And Jack's friend Mark-"

"Is Chester's brother," Bobby said with a nod.

"Holy shit!" Angel exclaimed when a memory of a few days prior hit him. "Jer-we saw him, this Chester guy! He asked us for directions that day when we were walking!"

"Shit!" Jerry said, remembering. "That's messed up."

Bobby took another breath and he ran a hand through his hair. "So it's my fucking fault."

"No!" Evelyn said suddenly, breaking her silence. "It is not your fault!"

Bobby looked at her incredulously. "What? Did you not hear my whole story?"

Evelyn nodded. "I did. And that was eight years ago, Bobby. You made a mistake."

"A mistake." Bobby scoffed. "A mistake is when you cheat on a test. Someone died because of me and now Jack-now Jack almost dies because of me!"

"Jack is alive!" Evelyn exclaimed, gesturing to the bed. "You cannot put the blame on yourself! Do you understand me, Bobby?"

Bobby wanted to protest and scream that it was his fault but instead he just nodded silently. "Yeah."

"Good," Evelyn said, recomposing herself. "Now boys, please do me a favor and go home."

"But-"

"No!" she said, raising her finger to silence Jerry. "I'll stay with Jack. I don't want you boys to have to sit here and worry too." She turned to Bobby, fixing him with a stare. "And you especially need to take some time for yourself."

"Okay, Ma," Bobby said with a tired sigh. He turned and left, nodding at Angel and Jerry to follow him before he disappeared out the door.

Angel and Jerry both gave Jack's arm a little pat before leaving. Evelyn smiled at them and told them she would see them later. When she was alone she pushed some of Jack's hair from his eyes and settled into a chair, getting ready for the long night ahead of her.

…

The walk from Jack's hospital room to Bobby's car was completely silent. Angel and Jerry remained a few paces behind Bobby, casting glances at each other as they tried to keep up with their older brother. After a silent elevator ride and a short walk through the lobby, they were outside and walking-still silently-towards Bobby's car. He had parked it there after they had followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Bobby unlocked the car, opened the door and sat without a single word. Jerry opened the passenger side door, letting Angel move into the backseat before getting in next to Bobby and slamming the door shut. Bobby turned the key in the ignition and shut the radio when an annoying pop song blasted from the radio. Still the silence hung heavy; the tension radiating from Bobby so tangible that a butcher knife would be too weak to cut through it. Angel and Jerry held their breath and waited for what seemed inevitable.

And then finally the wall that Bobby was keeping up to block his anger gave way and he snapped. He banged his fist against the steering wheel and screamed a bunch of obscenties in one breath. Angel and Jerry jumped when he suddenly flew into a rage but they said nothing nor made an effort to stop him. They waited until he was done. When he finally did stop, he turned to his brothers. He was breathing hard and the anger he felt was still clear on his face.

"Motherfucker!" he said, slamming the steering wheel once more. "I can't believe this is fucking happening!"

Jerry shared a look with Angel wo nodded at him to talk to Bobby. "Bobby, do you want me to drive?" he asked tentatively. He didn't want to anger him but Bobby looked in no condition to drive.

"I'm fucking fine!" Bobby said in reply. He shifted the car into to drive and sped off from the parking lot and onto the street. "It's ny fault," Bobby said, his voice coming out lower than before. "My fucking fault!"

"It isn't, man," Angel said. He was pressed against the backseat, his seatbelt strapped tightly against his body.

"The fuck it isn't!" Bobby exclaimed, pressing down harder on the gas. "I'm the one who got his brother killed and now he came back to kill mine!" He paused for a moment then said, "If Jack had died..."

He let his words trail off. He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

"He didn't die!" Jerry said, looking at him. "He is alive!"

"Yeah? Well someone else isn't."

"You cannot blame yourself," Jerry said. He was always the more rational, level-headed one. "Did you force the kid to take drugs?"

Bobby turned to look at him but he didn't answer. After a few seconds he turned his eyes back to the road.

Jerry nodded. "Exactly. You didn't force the kid to take drugs. He did it of his own free will. And you can't be responsible for that."

Bobby grinned his teeth together tightly as he spoke. "I still sold him the drugs."

"I don't give a fuck!" Jerry exclaimed loudly, banging his fist on the dashboard for emphasis. "That happened a long time ago. It's done! You have something to deal with right now!"

"What are you gonna do, Bobby?" Angel asked. He had been quietly observing up until then. "About this Chester guy?"

Bobby kept his eyes straight on the road in front of him. He didn't hesitate to answer. "I'm gonna kill the motherfucker."

"But-"

"What?" Bobby asked, making eye-contact with Angel through the rearview mirror.

"What about his brother? Jack's-well that kid Mark."

Bobby didn't answer. He kept his eyes focused straight for the rest of the ride home. No one spoke anymore; each of them lost in thoughts of their own.

...

The next morning the sun shone brightly and despite the weather, a few birds still remained in the trees and sang a happy tune. The leaves had long since turned orange and red and littered the cold ground, their bright colours decorating the drab streets. Kids on the street laughed and called to each other, playing games and enjoying each other's company. An outsider looking in would describe the morning as bright, happy and the start of a good day.

But Bobby Mercer wasn't paying any attention. The sky could be plagued with meteors and the fires of hell cpuld be raging around him and he wouldn't notice. His mind was filled with only one thought, only one mission as he got into his car and turned the key in the ignition. He drove in silence-he didn't have patience for the radio-and mulled over what he was going to say. Fifteen minutes later, when he arrived and parked in the hospital parking lot, he still didn't know. Shutting the car off, he took a deep breath and walked towards the front doors of the hospital.

Bobby stalked through the hospital with determination, not stopping to look or talk to anyone except the nurse coming out of Jack's room. She told him that his mother had gone to the cafeteria to eat, much to her urging, and that Jack was still unconscious. Bobby nodded in reply and walked past her into Jack's room. Bobby shut the door behind him and slowly made his way to the chair by the bed. He sucked in a deep breath when his eyes fully took Jack in. There wasn't much change from the day before. He was still covered in wires and the only sound was that of the heart monitor beeping steadily. Jack lay on his back, head propped up by two pillows and his arms at his sides. Bobby couldn't help the feeling of guilt that flooded him as he looked at his baby brother lying there.

Bobby sat in the chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands. For a while he wasn't sure what to say or even if he could manage to speak. But finally, after several inhales and exhales, he said, "Hey Jack."

Of course Jack couldn't answer. Bobby scoffed lightly when only silence greeted him. Some wishful part of him had hoped that Jack's eyes would pop open magically and that he'd be awake and all right and they could go home and forget that the Chester bullshit ever happened. He cursed himself silently for being so foolish. This was real life and not some story or fairytale where everything turned out good. He was stupid to ever let the thought pass through his mind.

"Jack," Bobby said again. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Listen kid-I don't know if you can hear me." He scoffed to himself. "You probably can-Jesus, I don't know how this shit works! I just wanted to-"

He stopped for a second, again unsure. What did he want to say? What could he say? 'Gee, kid, sorry for almost getting you killed. My bad!' He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wasn't easy for him. Bobby wasn't the guy to talk about emotions or feelings. He'd usually be the one heckling someone who did get too emotional. But the nagging feeling of guilt was making it hard to keep everything locked inside. He had to talk to Jack-even though it was a fifty-fifty chance that he could actually hear him.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Bobby continued, the words now come forth from him like a gushing waterfall. "It's my fault you're in here. And I don't give a fuck what anyone says becausw it is." He looked down at the floor and chuckled bitterly."Fuck kid, I don't ever expect you to forgive me or anything. Never talk to me again, I don't care! Just-wake up, okay? You're needed more than you think. Just please, Jackie, wake up!"

He had to stop again before the tears that were in his eyes fell. He swiped at his eyes and forced himself to take a composing breath. He looked back to his brother again and for the first time consciously noticed the many fresh marks that were on his body. Bobby saw that he was beaten up before but too much shit had happened that he never took the time to really look. Jack was covered in cuts and contusions; knife cuts adorned both of his arms and the bruises on his face were evidence of him being beaten. His wrists were red and some of the skin torn from the ropes that bound them together tightly. The cuts were treated and bandaged and the bruises had already begun to fade but the scars-whether on the surface or not-would always be there. The sight of this caused anger to rise from somewhere deep within Bobby.

"I'm gonna kill him," Bobby said, gripping the side of the bed so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I promise you that, Jack. I'm gonna go after Chester and I'm gonna empty my gun into that motherfucker!"

Jack's face remained unresponsive. Bobby stood, pushing the chair backwards as he did. He leaned over his brother. "You listen to me, Jackie," he said. "I promise you that I will kill Chester. But you gotta wake up, kid." He put his hand over Jack's and whispered almost inaudibly, "I love you, kid."

With that, he walked out of the room, a new sense of determination taking hold of him. He was going to find Chester and he was going to make him pay. No one crosses Bobby Mercer and lives long enough to tell the tale.

...

_"NO PUEDO CREER QUE HARÍA ESTO! TÚ ERES TAN ESTÚPIDA! IMBÉCIL! ¡TE ODIO! NUNCA QUIERE HABLAR CON USTED NUNCA MÁS!"_

Angel leaned against the wall in the hallway of the hospital and sighed deeply as he watched Sofi's retreating back. He knew she wasn't going to take news well but he didn't think she'd freak out and scream at him in a public place, in Spanish no less! But then again, this was Sofi. He sighed again as she turned the corner and disappeared from sight. She had caused such a scene in a place that generally remained quiet. The male nurses looked at him with sympathy while the women looked at him like it was his fault. With a shake of his head and uet another sigh, he pushed open the door to Jack's room. He had gotten over one hurdle and now it was time to tell his family.

Everyone looked up at him when he walked in. No doubt they had heard Sofi screaming at him a few seconds prior.

"Trouble?" Bobby asked, a hint of a smirk on his face. Being tired and worried didn't stop him from heckling.

Angel scoffed in reply and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Jerry shared a look with Bobby and they both chuckled. Evelyn turned in the chair by Jack's bed to look at him. Concern was etched on her face.

"What was that about, honey?" she asked.

Angel shrugged. "I was just-" He stopped himself. He couldn't make excuses anymore. He took a deep breath. "I have to tell y'all something."

"What?" Bobby said. "You finally came out of the closet?"

"Fuck off, Bobby!" Angel said then regained his composure. "I'm serious. I've decided-I'm joining the Marines!"

The shocked silence that fell over the room was to be expected. Bobby and his mother stared at him with matching expressions of surprise and if Angel wasn't one hundred percent serious he would have laughed. He didn't think he ever saw Bobby looked so surprised before. Jerry knew already and he looked proud of his brother for finally telling the rest of the family. He was beginning to grow impatient for one of them to say something.

"Well? What do you think?"

The answers came rapid fire then, one after another from Bobby and Evelyn.

"The fuck?"

"The Marines?"

"When?"

"Why?"

"After Christmas," Angel said. "I feel like it's the right thing to do."

Evelyn stood and went to him. Her eyes were filled with worry. "I don't want you getting hurt!"

"I won't, Ma," Angel assured her. "I promise. It's just something I have to do."

Bobby snickered. "Do we get to call you jarhead?"

"Shut-up!" Angel said with a chuckle. He looked down at his mother. "Don't worry, Ma. It'll be all right."

"Good for you, man," Jerry said, giving him an appreciative nod. Angel smiled in response.

"Are you sure about this, son?" Evelyn asked again.

"I'm sure."

"Ahh come on, Ma!" Bobby said with a wave of his hand. "He'll be fine!" He glanced at Angel and scoffed. "Your timing sucks, though, Ang!"

"Yeah I know," Angel replied sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," Evelyn said, easing back into the chair by Jack's bed. "I'll just be worried is all!"

"Aren't you always?" Bobby asked and she chuckled.

Despite the recent circumstances and the worry that had fallen over the Mercer family since Jack was brought into the hospital, the mood in the room was happy; a bit like old times. Angel was glad that he finally got it off his chest. Now the only thing left was for Jack to wake up.

...

"Don't fucking point that thing at me, man!"

Bobby had a few different guns laid out on the dining room table before him. He picked up his silver gun, his favourite, and was aiming it at Angel. He scoffed at Angel's protest.

"Don't you gotta get used to having guns point at you?" he said with a chuckle.

"Shut up," Angel grumbled, something he'd been telling Bobby ever since that afternoon.

"What exactly is the plab, Bobby?" Jerry asked from his seat next to Angel at the table.

Bobby's face darkened, all signs of humor disappearing. "We're gonna find the son of a bitch and I'm gonna put a bullet in his face."

"Oh smart Bobby!" Jerry said, shaking his head. "And where do you think you're gonna shoot him?"

"At his house."

Angel raises an eye-brow. "You really think he's just going to be waiting for you at his house?"

"I don't need to think," Bobby replied coolly. He picked up a larger gun and cocked it. "I already fucking know."

"Really?"

"Yes, Jerry, really!" He put the gun back down and he leaned across the table to look his brothers in the face. "Chester didn't come here just to kill Jack and be done with it. He wants to call me out! His ultimate revenge is to kill me!" He stood back upright and went back to examining his guns. "So yeah," he said, "you're damn right he's waiting for me."

"I don't believe that, man," Angel said, shaking his head.

"Believe it."

"You're gonna get yourself killed, man!" Angel exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

"Fuck you, Angel," Bobby said. "I know what I'm doing!"

They continued arguing back and forth. The shrill ring of the phone pierced the air and Jerry gets up to answer it.

"Hello? Oh, hi mom."

Bobby and Angel stopped talking instantly once they heard it was their mother on the phone. She was at the hospital and said she would only call if she had news. Jerry spoke quietly into the receiver as Bobby and Angel waited impatiently.

"What?" Jerry exclaimed. "Oh yeah-we'll be there right away. We're leaving now."

"What is it?" Angel asked.

Bobby's stomach twisted, expecting tje worst. When Jerry hung up and turned to them he asked, "What did she say?"

"It's Jack."

...

**Addie AN: **And there you have it! Tell me what you think! Until next time- Addie


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Thanks for reading and reviewing my last chapter! I'm glad you all liked it! And so I have some news-next chapter will be the last! Yup, I know, pretty crazy! So, read this chapter and stay tuned! Oh and yeah, I know I suck at proofreading and I have a lot of shitty errors. Mostly because I put my faith in spell check and leave it at that. I'm too lazy to proofread but I shall try and be better at it! Anyway, go, read!

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

**Chapter 11:**

…

The drive from the Mercer house to the Henry Ford Hospital was usually between ten to fifteen minutes on a good day. That day, after Evelyn called the house, Bobby made it to the hospital in five minutes flat. He wasn't shy about speeding-who the fuck would stop him anyway? Detroit cops were good for nothing most of the time. Angel and Jerry were both tightly buckled in their seats, pressing themselves against the seats. Bobby was a bad driver to begin with and speeding certainly didn't improve it. Bobby skidded to stop in the nearest parking spot he could find and was out of the car and walking to the entrance before his brothers unbuckled their seatbelts. They followed him quickly. There was, after all, a reason to rush.

Jack was awake.

Evelyn was outside of the room speaking with the doctor when Bobby Angel and Jerry came out of the elevator. She smiled and waved at them to come over. She was beaming and her eyes shone with tears of joy. Dr. Solomon greeted the men with a nod and the continued his explanation.

"Jack seems to be doing really well," he said with a smile. "You did get him here in time and we were able to save him before the drugs could do any permanent damage."

"I'm so glad, doctor," Evelyn said. "Is there anything we should worry about?"

Dr. Solomon shook his head and looked over Jack's chart for a few seconds. "No, nothing I can see. Jack will be sore for a few days due to the cuts and contusions he received but other than that he's fine!"

Bobby tensed when the doctor mentioned Jack's cuts. He balled up his hands into fists at his sides. He was gonna find Chester, the scumbag, and break his neck with his bare hands.

Evelyn smiled at the doctor. "Thank you so much, doctor!"

"Hey doc," Jerry said from behind his mother. "About the way Jack was brought in..."

"Oh don't worry," Dr. Solomon said with a shake of his head. "I don't ask any questions, Mr. Mercer, I just do my job." Jerry nodded in silence and the doctor continued, "While Jack is awake and fine, I think overwhelming him might not be the best idea."

"Wait," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Can't we even see him? We're his brothers!"

"Certainly!" Dr. Solomon replied. "I just want to keep it to one visitor at a time today."

"We will," Evelyn said. She grabbed his hand and held it in hers for a few moments. "Thank you...again."

Dr. Solomon nodded in response and left, turning into the room two down from Jack. Evelyn turned to look at her sons. With a happy sigh she hugged all of them. All of the worry and fear in them disappeared in her disappeared and was replaced by relief.

"Who's going in first?" Angel asked. "To see Jack?"

"Bobby," Evelyn said and he looked up. "You go, honey."

Bobby shrugged. "Nah, it's okay, one of you guys go."

"You go, Bobby," Evelyn said again. "I was with him already."

"Yeah man, go," Angel said and Jerry nodded in agreement.

Bobby took a breath. "Okay."

He walked towards Jack's room and when he reached the door he hesitated. After another breath, he put his hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open.

...

Jack had been staring at the same spot on the white wall for a long time before he finally blinked and looked away. He was still trying to figure out how he was alive and how he ended up in the hospital. The last thing he remembered was Chester shoving the needle into his arm. He shuddered at the memory. So many questions burned in his brain-did his brothers save him? Did Chester dump him somewhere where someone found him? Were Chester and Mark alive? They flew through his mind at rapid speed like caged birds. He wanted answers.

When he woke up, his mother was sitting next to his bed. He had opened his eyes, confused and frightened. His throat was dry and he couldn't seem to get any words out. He saw Evelyn asleep in her chair and he reached out and touched her arm. She was ecstatic and she began fluttering around him; giving him water, calling for the nurses and his doctor. He asked what was going on and how he got there but she just told him to rest. She stayed with him and hugged him and kissed him until the doctor asked to speak with her.

That's when the nervousness finally set in. He didn't particularly like hospitals; in fact, they creeped him out. He lay there alone in the stark white room, the machines humming, for a full two minutes before he decided he couldn't take it anymore. He sat up quickly and was light-headed for a few moments. He ignored the pain from the various wounds Chester had given him and tried to get off the bed. He was pulled back by the IV in his hand and he hissed in pain. He began to pull at the tape that held it in place.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The voice made him jump and he looked up. Bobby was just coming through the door. A bunch of emotions flooded through Jack in a split second. Relief and happiness of seeing him again, slight anger that he didn't find him, sadness at all the trouble he caused his older brother. He wanted to hug him or burst into tears but he settled on a simple greeting instead.

"Hi."

"You tryin' to skip out already?" Bobby asked, shaking his head. He ruffled Jack's hair. "You've been awake less than a fuckin' hour, kid!"

Jack shrugged and slowly eased himself back into the pillows. He was already feeling tired. "I don't like hospitals."

"No shit!" Bobby was silent for a few moments. He sat in the chair by the bed.

"I want to go home," Jack said, his jaw set in determination. "I don't want to stay here." He gave Bobby a pleading look. "Don't make me stay here!"

"Relax," Bobby replied, leaning back in the chair. "You just fucking woke up! Give yourself sometime to recover."

Jack crossed his arms and mumbled something under his breath. Bobby held back a laugh, masking it with a cough. After a few moments, he spoke again and his tone was serious.

"Jackie-are you all right?"

Jack turned to look at his brother. Bobby had guilt written all over his face. It made Jack's stomach turn and he felt horrible for a moment. Did Bobby really blame himself?

"It's not your fault," he said.

Bobby scoffed. "I'm sure Chester told you all about what I did. That's why he fucking kidnapped you!"

"I know," Jack said quietly. He fiddled with the IV tube in his hand. "Still Bobby..."

"Still what?" Bobby snapped and Jack jumped slightly. He sighed. "I'm sorry. Look, none of that shit matters okay? You're alive."

Again, silence fell between them. Jack saw an opportunity to get his answers. He nervously pulled at the tube in his hand, not hard enough to pull it out but just enough to keep his nervous hands busy.

"What happened?" he asked, still looking at his hands. "How am I still alive?"

"You don't remember?"

Jack looked up then. He shook his head. "Only thing I remember is..." He paused. He didn't want to make Bobby feel worse than he already did. Bobby nodded at him to go on. "The last thing I remember is Chester giving me the drugs."

Bobby tensed and gripped the edges of the chair, his knuckles turning white from the effort. Every time he thought of that bastard touching his brother he got angrier. Bobby couldn't wait to rip his fucking throat out.

"That motherfucker," Bobby began, his body still tense and anger-filled, "brought you home. He dumped you on the doorstep and left you there."

Jack's eyes went wide and the thought made him feel sick. His voice was a whisper. "He left me there? To die?"

"To die," Bobby repeated. He swallowed down the anger inside him. It wasn't time for that yet. "But we got you to the hospital in time. You've been unconscious for a few days."

Jack was quiet. It was a lot to take in for someone who had just woken from a sort of coma. He could already feel his eyelids drooping. All the movement and talking made him tired. Bobby saw that he was going to fall asleep any second.

"You should get some rest," Bobby said. "We can talk later."

"No wait!" Jack said, forcing his eyes to stay open."What are you gonna do? About...about Chester?"

"I'm gonna kill him," Bobby replied, his voice set and determined. "Angel and Jerry'll come with me. He came here because he wanted me. And that's exactly what he's gonna get!"

Alarm and panic went off inside Jack. "But-Chester is evil. He'll...kill you."

"Don't worry about me, kid," Bobby said, chuckling softly to himself. "I'll be all right. You focus on getting better."

"But-"

"Just relax, Jackie," Bobby said, cutting him off. "It'll be okay."

"O...kay..."

Within seconds Jack was asleep again, the medication taking its effect on him. Bobby stood, covered his brother with the thin blanket and headed for the door. Before he left, he made Jack a silent promise. He was never going to let anyone hurt his brother ever again.

…

Mark took a few deep breaths before walking into his house. He had been outside, walking up and down the pathway, up and down the stairs and back and forth on the porch for nearly fifteen minutes. The news he had—the one Chester asked him for—was only going to upset his brother and he wasn't looking forward to delivering it. He thought that maybe if he stayed outside and avoiding going on, he'd be able to figure something out. But no amount of hesitation was going to help him. Chester was waiting for him and if he didn't go inside soon, he would know something was up. He had to go inside.

The house was quiet and dark and for a moment Mark thought that maybe his brother wasn't home. His hopes were dashed when Chester rounded the corner from the living room and stepped into the hallway. His eyes were dark and he had a dangerous look in them. He grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him into the living room. He pushed him into the nearest chair and stood over him.

"Well?"

"I—uh—" Mark stuttered, unsure of what to say. He couldn't hold off any longer. Chester was going to get angry no matter what and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "They were talking about him at school today."

Chester still wanted Mark to go to school, even after everything with Jack went down. Chester wanted him to keep up appearances so that no one would suspect anything. The last thing they needed was the "fucking police to get involved" or so his brother had said.

Chester nodded and said, "And?"

Mark swallowed and avoided his brother's gaze. "Jack…is alive."

Chester was angry to say the least. His eyes widened and his face flushed with the intense anger that flooded through his entire being. His already dark eyes looked almost pure black and his face was white with anger. He was gripping the sides of the chair Mark was sitting in tight enough to snap the wood. Mark, though he wouldn't admit it to Chester, was relieved that Jack didn't die. He didn't think he could live with that kind of guilt.

Mark didn't know what to say. "Chester-"

"No," Chester said, shaking his head, his body tense. "We didn't do this for only to have that little fucker live! This is fucking ridiculous!"

He screamed in anger and he pushed away from the chair, kicking the coffee table and turning it over. He grabbed things off of the mantle and threw them to the ground. The sounds of screaming and shattering filled the room as Mark sat still; terrified at seeing his brother so angry.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!" Chester screamed as he smashed things with his bare fists. "That stupid motherfucker should have died! I'm gonna kill him and make Bobby Mercer watch before I slit his fucking throat!"

A glass vase sailed through the air and collided with the wall over Mark's head. Mark ducked low in the chair, his hands up in an attempt to protect himself from the falling shards of glass. Chester stopped then, leaning against the wall on his hands and breathing heavily. They remained that way for a few seconds longer before Chester spun around suddenly.

"We're not gonna do a fucking thing," he said, walking over to Mark. He grabbed his arm once again and pulled him into a standing position. "Are we, Mark?"

Mark didn't answer. He was more afraid of his brother than he ever had been before. He waited for Chester to continue.

"We're gonna wait for Bobby to come to us," he said, pulling Mark with him as he walked. "He's going to come after me. And when he does, I'll be ready for him. I'll be ready to kill him."

Mark's breath hitched in his throat and he felt his stomach turn with disgust as Chester's laugh rang throughout the house. Chester pushed him into the kitchen when they walked past it, his face serious again.

"Now make me some fuckin' food."

…

Two days later-and with Jack's constant complaining it was a long two days-the doctor finally gave Jack's release the green light. Jack was ecstatic to get out of there and when the time came to go, he was already sitting at the edge of the bed, dressed and ready to leave. Bobby plopped himself into the chair after packing Jack's few belongings. Jack looked at him with disdain.

"Why the hell are you sitting down? I wanna go home!"

"Easy, Jackie," Bobby said with a small chuckle. "Ma's signin' your release forms."

Jack narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips but didn't say anything. He was tired and a bit cranky and all he wanted was to throw himself onto his own bed. He wanted to close the blinds,  
>lie down and blast his music through his earphones. Jack was getting antsy and Bobby's smirks and chuckles weren't helping any.<p>

"Do I get to walk out of here?" Jack asked, playing with the edge of the blanket.

"No," Bobby said, sarcasm coating his voice heavily. "They're gonna carry you down like the fuckin' princess you are!"

"Fuck off, man!" Jack said, his face flushing a light shade of red. "You know what I mean. Are they gonna wheel me down or something?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nah. They figured you'd wanna run out of here."

"I would."

"You tried."

"Once."

"Yeah," Bobby said with a scoff. "The day you wake up, I catch you trying to pull out your IV!"

Jack just shrugged at that and Bobby chuckled again. It was quiet for a few moments. Jack watched the hands of the clock on the wall slowly tick the time away. He looked towards the closed door-did it really take that long to sign a few forms? He looked at his brother, taking a moment to study his troubled face. Bobby blamed himself still, Jack knew that, but he was doing a good job of hiding it now. And there was something else in his eyes that scared Jack a little; the thirst for revenge.

"You're gonna go after him?" Jack asked quietly.

"What?" Bobby said, shaking his away his thoughts. "Oh-Chester?" He nodded. "Of course I'm gonna go after him, Jack. After all he did try to fucking kill you did he not?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know but..."

"But what?" Bobby cut him off, leaning forward. "You think I'm just gonna let him go?"

"No, I-"

"He doesn't want me to let him go," Bobby continued. "Chester wants me to come after him so he can kill me. So I'm fucking going to! Except I'm gonna kill that rat motherfucker first."

Jack was silent and he grimaced inwardly. Bobby noticed Jack's expression and he softened.

"Jack," Bobby said, locking eyes with his brother. "I told you not to worry didn't I?"

Jack nodded silently.

"Then don't, all right?" He waited and when Jack didn't answer right away he said again, "All right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

The door opened then, cancelling out any opportunity for more conversation. Evelyn walked in, a big smile on her face, and Dr. Solomon wasn't far behind.

"Feel better?" he asked Jack.

Jack nodded. "100% better."

So it wasn't entirely the truth. He was tired and he was still in pain. He just wanted to go home.

"Glad to hear it!" the doctor said with a smile. "Rest up at home, don't do anything strenuous. School can wait for a week or two. Take aspirin should you feel pain. Other than that, you are free to go!"

"Thanks," Jack said quietly. He eased himself off of the bed and was out the door before anything else could be said.

Evelyn, Bobby and Dr. Solomon chuckled together.

"He must want to get out of here," Dr. Solomon said.

"He does," Bobby replied. "I'll go make sure he doesn't get lost. Thank, doc!"

Bobby disappeared from the room quickly, figuring Jack was already halfway to the entrance. Evelyn smiled warmly at Dr. Solomon and shook his hand.

"Thank you for everything," she said. "I appreciate it greatly."

"You take care of yourself and your family, Ms. Mercer!"

"I will."

And with that, Evelyn left to catch up with her sons, finally feeling like everything was going to be all right.

...

"Are you sure about this dude?"

Angel looked at the perspiring can of beer he held in his hand. He didn't honestly know what to say. This whole "showdown" was Bobby's thing and he and Jerry were only coming along for the ride. It seemed like he was doing that most of life-following his big brother whenever he was needed. But right now? To tell the truth, he was more sure of marrying Sofi.

"Angel?"

Angel broke from his thoughts, giving Julian a sheepish half-grin. "Sorry, bra. Alot of shit on my mind."

"I can tell," Julian said. He slid the gun he just took from his vault and slid it across the table to Angel. "That enough?"

Angel took the gun and passed it back and forth between his hands. "I guess." he shrugged and tucked the gun into his pants. "Bobby wanted me to get one. God knows why-he has his own."

"You sure you're all right?" Julian asked, studying his face.

"Yeah," Angel said with a sigh. "I'm just tired. This whole fucking thing has been crazy." He was quiet for a moment then said, "I'm joining the Marines."

Julian looked at him with a mixture of surprise and appreciation. Angel smiled at him. He felt a little better every time he said it; he had to get used to saying it. Saying it made it feel like his dream was becoming less a dream and more of a reality. It was a good feeling and he was looking forward to going.

"Good for you, man!" Julian said, clapping him on the back. "Did Bobby kill you?"

Angel chuckled and chugged half his beer. "Nah. He makes fun of me for it already."

"Typical Bobby Mercer," Julian said, a hint of disdain in his voice.

The loud ring of Angel's cell phone filled the small kitchen and he pulled it out of his pocket quickly. He smirked when he saw the call display.

"Speak of the devil." He flipped open the phone and put it to his ear. "Yeah? Yeah I got the gun. No I'm still here. Yeah because-okay. Okay, Bobby."

"Your master calling you home?" Julian asked dryly.

Angel scoffed and chugged the last of his beer. He stood. "I'll see you later."

"Hey wait," Julian said. He stood and walked Angel to the door. He handed him a small bag. "Take this."

"What's in it?"

"Knives, a chain, a few other things," Julian said with a shrug. "In case you need them, you know?"

"Yeah. Thanks, man," Angel said, shaking hands with him.

He slung the bag over his shoulder, tightened his jacket around himself and walked towards home. He didn't want to say it out loud but he had a feeling that the coming fight between Bobby and Chester was going to end only in death.

He just didn't know which one of them would be left standing.

...

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"That's your brilliant plan?"

"Pretty much."

"You're fucking crazy!"

Bobby narrowed his eyes at his brothers, his expression a mix of confusion, pride and anger. He had just finished telling Angel and Jerry his plan of going after Chester. And it was a damn good plan too-if he did say so himself. But his brothers stared at him like he just told them he was half robot or something. They pretty much told him that he was crazy.

"It could fucking work," Bobby said, staring across the coffee table at his brothers.

"Do you remember my tree house?"

"Oh get the fuck over it, Jer!" Bobby exclaimed, throwing his hands up for emphasis. He settled back into the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a quick and effective way," he said, half to himself.

Jerry blew out an exasperated breath. "We're not setting his house on fire!"

"It's gonna cause too much attention!" Angel said, finally breaking into the conversation. "Besides, Bobby, I thought you wanted to beat the shit out of him! And you had me go get guns and shit from Julian."

"I do," Bobby said evenly. "I was just thinking-in case this blows up in our fucking faces!"

"Well we're not starting a fire!" Jerry said with a shake of his head. "This is why you suck at planning."

"Fine!" Bobby said, rolling his eyes. "We'll just fucking wing it then!"

Before Jerry could respond, a quiet voice broke through, coming from the living room doorway.

"What are you guys talking about?"

The three brothers looked at Jack, who looked tired and was lean against the doorframe. He looked like he just woke up-he went to his room the minute he came home from the hospital and passed out for the rest of the day. Evelyn saved dinner for him to eat later; she didn't want to disturb his sleep. Jack stared at his brothers, eyes slightly droopy and eyebrows raised, and waited for an answer.

"Your 'brilliant' brother was just telling us his 'brilliant' plan," Jerry said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"It was brilliant," Bobby mumbled under  
>his breath. He turned to look at Jack. "It's nothing for you to worry about anyway. We'll take care of it."<p>

"You're going after him," Jack said. It was a statement of fact more than a question.

Bobby nodded without looking at him. "Tonight."

"Tonight?" Jack repeated. He walked further into the room and held onto the arm of the couch for support. "I wanna come."

Angel and Jerry chuckled out right. That was absolutely ridiculous! Jack was hurt-where the fuck did he think he was going? Bobby, who had been fixated on the bag Julian had given Angel, looked up. His eyes had darkened ever so slightly.

"I don't fucking think so!" he said, fixing Jack with a steely gaze.

"Why the hell not?" Jack asked stubbornly.

"Look at you!" Bobby said, standing up. "You can barely fucking stand! And I'm not going to be responsible for putting you danger." Again, he silently added.

"What about them?" Jack asked, nodding towards Angel and Jerry. They sat in silence.

Bobby shrugged. "They can take care of themselves."

"Oh and I can't?"

"No," Bobby said. "You fucking can't!" it was silent for a few moments. Jack looked determined and pissed off. Bobby took a breath. "We will take care of Chester. I can't afford to worry about you when I'm trying to kick his head in. Okay?"

Jack didn't answer but just stared silently.

"Okay?" Bobby asked again, this time with a little force.

"Okay," Jack mumbled quietly. He sat on the couch and pulled a pillow onto his lap. He sat quietly and hugged the pillow.

"Good." Bobby nodded at Angel and Jerry and they got to their feet.

Jack watched as his brothers left the room and disappeared up the stairs. He watched until they were gone and then he looked down at the pillow on his lap. There was no way in hell he was just going to sit this one out. He didn't care that he was hurt and still recovering and that he probably should get some rest. This was his fight as much as it was Bobby's. Chester physically caused him pain and tried to kill him. What kind of person would he be if he didn't even try to get him back? This time he wasn't going to let his big brother push him around. This time he had a plan.

...

Jack stood at his bedroom window, watching. The room was pitch black and he had already slipped into his hoodie. He felt a little woozy and his cuts hurt but he ignored them. He wasn't about to give up before he even began. For ten minutes he stood at his window; ever since he heard his brothers pound down the stairs. They were getting ready to go and he was just waiting for the right moment.

Part of him felt guilty. He knew he should be resting and trying to get his full strength back. If anything did happen to him, Bobby would surely blame himself for the rest of his life. He also felt bad about telling his mother he was going to bed. She believed him-why shouldn't she? But this was something he had to do and his stubborn determination won out over his guilt. So he stuffed pillows under his blanket to make it look like he was under there and waited by the window.

After another five minutes, his waiting paid off. He saw his brothers leave the house and get into Bobby's car. Jerry sat in the passenger seat and he had a  
>black bag slung over his right shoulder. When Bobby drove off, he sprung into action. He slowly raised the window, being as quiet as he could. After looking behind him once, he stuck his head out into the cold night air. Was he really going to do this? Before he could hesitate, he took a deep breath, climbed out onto the rooftop and was on his way.<p>

...

**A/N: **All righty, there you have it! What did you all think? Be kind, review. lol. Until next chapter! -Addie


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Hello there you awesome, spectacular readers! I can't believe I reached my last chapter already! I've never written something so fast and efficient in my entire life. You guys were a big part of that so thank you a million times! And now, without any further ado, here is the twelfth and final chapter….

**Chapter 12:**

"This it?"

"Yeah."

Bobby drove past the house, turned and then parked across the street. He cut the engine and for a few moments they just sat there in silence. The house was completely dark and there were no cars parked around it. To anyone else it would look deserted. Anyone else would have turned and went back home, deeming it a lost cause. But Bobby Mercer knew better.

"Bobby," Angel began, looking back and forth from the house to his brother.

Bobby was turned in his seat, his gaze fixed on the house. "What?"

"Do you think Chester skipped out?" he asked, a tiny hint of nervousness in his voice.

Bobby shook his head without speaking. His fists were clenched and white-hot anger coursed through his body. Jerry shared a look with Angel and then turned to his brother, his voice soft and tentative.

"He could have skipped out," Jerry said. He sure wanted it to be true. He had a bad feeling about it and he didn't want to go through with it.

"He didn't fucking skip out," Bobby snapped, finally looking at them. He was annoyed and it showed. "Chester knows I'm coming. He's fucking ready and waiting." Bobby pushed open the door and got out only looking back in for a second to say, "Let's fucking go."

Bobby slammed the door and began to make his way across the street to the dark house. Jerry and Angel shared another look. Jerry shrugged and then opened the door to follow Bobby, the black bag weighing him down slightly. Angel sighed to himself and muttered under his breath before getting out.

"Fuckin' Bobby!"

Once they were almost much at the front door, Bobby stopped. Jerry raised his eye-brows but didn't speak. Were they supposed to just waltz through the front door like they owned the place? He studied Bobby, wondering what his brother's idea of "winging it" would be this time. He and Angel stood a few inches behind him, sharing glances constantly. There was a tense silence for a few seconds. Then suddenly Bobby took a step back and kicked the front door open with full force. It burst open and slammed hard against the wall inside. Jerry and Angel stared at him in awed disbelief as he walked inside the house. They followed him silence. The first floor seemed empty though it was hard to see with no light.

"We should have bought a fucking flashlight," Angel said.

"Shut-up!" Bobby snapped, leading the way through the house.

A deep, evil voice suddenly came out of the darkness behind them

"Bobby Mercer."

...

Jack rounded the corner of the street just as Bobby and his brothers were walking up to Mark and Chester's front door. He made a mad dash for Bobby's car and he dove behind it, crouching low so no one would see him. If Bobby saw that he had followed him, he'd smack him upside the head, call him a fucking idiot and make him wait in the car. Jack wasn't about to let that happen. He was sixteen for Christ's sake; he could take care of himself-his being kidnapped notwithstanding. So he waited. When Bobby kicked the door open, he jumped in spite of himself. Bobby's sheer strength and aggressiveness still frightened him at times.

His brothers disappeared inside and it was time to keep going. He stood up suddenly and for moment had to brace himself against the car. Another dizzy spell hit him and for a few moments he felt like he might throw up. He shut his eyes tight and forced himself to breathe deeply; in and out, in and out, until the pain went away. He knew he should be at home resting but this was something he just knew he had to do. After another few steadying breaths, he opened his eyes and stood upright. He wasn't going to give up now. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him and then took off towards the house.

I need a weapon, Jack thought to himself. He stopped and looked around. Where the hell was he going to get a weapon? The only things around him were an empty pizza box, a stack of newspapers and some old soda cans; nothing he could do any damage with. Then he remembered that Mark had once told him about the shed he had in his backyard. It was where he kept his broken bike and random sports stuff he had picked up over the years. Without a moment of hesitation, he started towards the back of the house.

The shed was small and broken down. The wood that held it together was half-rotted and the whole shed seemed to slant to the side. Jack opened the door with ease and stepped inside. It was dark and dusty and he coughed while swatting at the air in front of him. He could barely make out anything in the small space. He pushed the door open further and the moonlight lit the room a little better. He scanned the small space again. Jackpot! In the corner, against the flat-tired bike was a baseball bat.

"Perfect," he said to himself and grabbed it silently.

Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the side of the house. He figured Bobby and his brothers would still be in the foyer so opted for the side door. He only hoped it would be open. Jack was a bit dizzy and shaking slightly. He would kill for a fucking cigarette right then. But he didn't have time to smoke and he ignored the craving. He was a man on a mission.

"See," Jack muttered to himself as he neared the door. "I can fucking take care of myself!"

Having said that, he moved forward and tried the door. To his surprise and delight it was open and he slowly and carefully made his way inside the house. He said a quick prayer and hoped that everything would turn out okay.

...

"Well, well, well," Chester said as Bobby turned around. "For a while I thought I'd never see you again."

"Oh I'm so fucking glad you found me," Bobby said sarcastically. Anger filled him as he looked at someone he once called his friend.

Jerry and Angel stood behind Bobby nervously watching and waiting. Bobby looked past Chester into the living room and saw Mark sitting on the couch. From what he could see, the kid was pretty beat up. He looked down at the floor, guilt and shame on his face. Bobby felt a new surge of anger flood through him at the sight of this kid. Chester must have forced this kid to obey him and do what he wanted him to do like a little soldier. It made him feel sick. Where did Chester get off doing that to his own brother? How could a person even do that?

Chester followed Bobby's gaze. "Kid don't listen," he said, his face expressionless and his tone even.

Bobby shook his head. "You're a fucking prick, you know that?"

Chester yawned in mock tiredness. "Did you come here to kill me or talk me to death?"

Bobby didn't answer right away. He could take out his gun and shoot Chester through the heart right there. It'd be over before it even had a chance to start. And Lord knew he just wanted to waste that motherfucker more than anything. But Bobby saw right through Chester and his facade. That was all Chester wanted-a reason to kill Bobby and his brothers and then play it off like self-defense_. 'Gee, Officer, these men just stormed into my house and I fought them and took one of their guns and I shot him in defense.' _Bobby scoffed internally; Chester would probably say something identical to that. And that sure as hell was not the way it was gonna go down.

"No," Bobby said finally. He took the gun from the waistband of his jeans, took out the bullets and dropped everything on the floor. "Drop the bag," he said to Jerry.

"What?" Jerry asked incredulously. "But Bobby-"

"Just do it," Bobby said sharply, cutting him off. Jerry lowered the bag onto the floor. Bobby kicked it aside.

"What's this?" Chester asked, amused. "Giving up already?"

Bobby stared him right in the face. "I'm not gonna make it so fucking easy for you. I am gonna kill you for what you did to my brother. But I'm gonna do it with my bare hands."

Chester's eye-brows rose and Jerry and Angel stared at Bobby like he was crazy. Chester searched Bobby's face to see if he was joking or if there was a catch but Bobby's expression was stone-cold serious. Chester was taken aback for a few seconds.

"You want to fight?" Chester asked, his words slow and deliberate. "Just fighting?"

"Just fighting," Bobby said, staring Chester right in the eyes. "No weapons."

Something in Chester's eyes changed but a small smile appeared on his face and he nodded. "Fine. Let's go then." He turned to look behind him. "Mark!"

Mark rose from the couch slowly and walked towards them. Bobby nodded at Angel and Jerry and they grabbed Mark, albeit gently, and stood on either side of him, one hand on each of his arms. Chester did a sweeping hand motion towards the stairs and Bobby followed him down, Angel, Jerry and Mark close behind.

There was no going back now.

...

Jack made his way stealthily down the hallway after entering the unlocked side door. He held the bat tightly in his hands, ready to swing if anyone suddenly stumbled upon him or jumped out at him from a dark corner. He wasn't afraid; he could do this. He was going to do this for the simple reason that he was a Mercer; something Bobby had kept telling him ever since the day he moved in. Jack never understood the importance Bobby put on their name. He could have been a  
>Smith or a Diamond or a Roberts but he'd still be the same old Jack. Bobby made it sound like the Mercer name was magic; like it was something they had to live up to and maintain. Jack found the name important; it was a symbol of his identity and the home he lived in. But, like most of the time, he didn't understand Bobby's point of view. Who did, really?<p>

A noise coming from ahead of him made him stop in his tracks for a few seconds. He was frozen for a moment but relaxed when he realized it was only the house creaking as he walked. He hurried towards the front of the house and when he stepped into the foyer, he was struck with confusion. Where did everybody go? It was completely quiet and empty. He did a quick scan of the area. Even though it was dark he could see that no blood had been shed; at least in that part of the house. He didn't know what to do next. He stood in the middle of the foyer, shut his eyes and listened.

There it was! His eyes flew open and he threw himself towards the basement door. It was open a crack and the dim light was pouring out from it. He can't believe he didn't notice it at first. He got on his knees and carefully put the bat down on the cold tile floor. He peeked through the crack in the door and down into the basement. He couldn't see much but he could make out two figures standing in the middle of the basement. He knew it was Bobby and Chester. He felt a twinge in his stomach; it was about to go down and it was going to get ugly.

Jack looked around as far as he could see but he couldn't see his other brothers or Mark. He imagined they were off to the side and out of his line of sight. He clutched the bat in his hand once more and settled down to keep watch. If it got really bad and for some reason Bobby couldn't handle Chester, Jack would be ready to pounce. His only hope was that it would be over before it really started. He sat still, sucked in a breath and waited.

…

In the dim basement, surrounded by nothing but concrete walls and a rickety wood shelf, the air was tense. So thick, in fact, that a razor sharp blade would struggle to cut through it. Off to the side stood Angel and Jerry, Mark standing the tight space between them. The bag of weapons Angel acquired from Julian lay at Jerry's feet, unopened. Their eyes stared straight ahead to Bobby and Chester. The men were standing in the middle of the dank basement, staring each other down. They were shirtless; the more clothes the harder the fight became. It was pretty much Fight Club; only one of them was getting out alive.

For the time being both men just stood there, watching each other. It was customary in any fight; stare the other person down and banter until someone decided to throw the first punch. Bobby wasn't sure how long they had been standing there. It felt like hours but in reality it was probably no more than three minutes. He took that time to size up his opponent; trying to figure out his strength and speed. Bobby had been in hundreds of fights in his life. Hell, he'd been in more fights than Mike fucking Tyson. But this was the first time his opponent was staring at him with so much hate and the need to kill. It fueled his anger but also made him uneasy. Chester was one sick puppy; he had been waiting all this time to get Bobby and now the look on his face would be enough to make the devil turn away. Bobby held his ground though. The devil had nothing on Bobby Mercer anyway. He smirked at Chester.

"You just gonna stare at me?" Bobby asked; his body ready in a fight stance. "I thought you wanted to kill me."

"Oh I do," Chester said as they slowly began to circle each other. "I'm just figuring out how I want to kill you."

"If you don't know that yet," Bobby said with a scoff, "then you are pathetic at holdin' a fucking grudge."

Angel was growing nervous as he watched his brother and Chester circle each other. His stomach was a bundle of nerves and if it twisted itself anymore he was sure he would throw up on the concrete floor. He looked at Jerry who just gave him a quick nod. He was feeling the same thing. The anticipation was the worst part. Mark stood still and silent like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. All through this, Jack sat at the top of the stairs, his grip on the bat getting tighter and tighter as the tension increased.

"Only one of us is making it out of here, you know," Chester said; his smile evil.

"I'll be sure to send flowers to your funeral," was Bobby's smart-ass reply. He was getting tired of this talking bullshit and so he pushed the one button he knew would set Chester in motion. It was mean and he felt bad but it had to be done. "Your funeral will be empty," Bobby said. "Just like Sid's."

It worked. The colour drained from Chester's face for a few seconds before anger flushed it with red. With a loud animal cry he lunged at Bobby, catching him around the waist and taking him down. Bobby had underestimated Chester's strength and was surprised when he hit the floor. His shoulder hit the concrete and he felt a burst of pain but he ignored it. Chester was able to get two punches in.

"Don't you ever talk about my brother!"

Before he could land a third punch, Bobby grabbed his arm and used his momentum to flip him completely over. Bobby was on top of Chester now and in control. He punched him five times and then stood, giving Chester the chance to stand up. Bobby Mercer was a fair fighter if anything. Chester stood, spat out blood and readied himself for another round. He swung at Bobby but it was swiftly blocked. Bobby grabbed Chester's arm on his second swing, twisted the arm behind his back and threw him forward. Chester landed on the steps, banging his face against one of the splintered pieces.

Jack jumped a little and prayed Chester wouldn't see him. But Chester was preoccupied. He was a sore loser and he hated Bobby having the upper hand. With an inhuman growl he pitched forward and landed a punch on Bobby's already hurt shoulder. Bobby hissed in pain and in that one split second of recovery, Chester tackled him and they landed on the cold floor. Once again Chester had the upper hand and he mercilessly pounded Bobby. Bobby saw an opportunity a few punches later and he managed to get on top of Chester. He punched him, this time breaking his nose; blood sprayed everywhere and Chester let out a strangled cry. Chester pushed Bobby and he fell backwards, rolling away from Chester. They both stood, bloody and tired but ready to go another round.

From the sidelines, Angel and Jerry watched silently but nervously. Their tension lessened when Bobby was winning and it came rushing back when he wasn't. Mark still watched silently. Part of him didn't want his brother to get hurt yet the other part rooted for Bobby to put an end to the whole vicious cycle of revenge. Jack, unnoticed in all the commotion, waited for the right time to make a move.

"You know," Bobby said as they circled, "I gotta give you credit for coming up with this plan. Who knew you were fuckin' smart?" Chester threw a punch at him and after blocking it, Bobby continued. "Pretty smart using your brother's name as your last name."

"It worked didn't it?" Chester growled, another punch easily deflected by Bobby.

Bobby shrugged and punched, Chester barely managing to block it. "Not really. Jack's still alive." Bobby paused and then smirked a little. "That must fucking eat you up inside, huh? Knowing you failed to do what it took you eight years to plan."

"No," Chester replied though he was visibly fuming. He wanted to tear Bobby apart and it showed. "Killing you is what I want, Mercer. And I'm going to get it!"

"Sure," Bobby said. He ducked when Chester swung and then kicked him in the back of the leg when he lunged on him. He looked down on Chester who was down on one knee. "You're about as good at killing me as you are a brother."

Chester swung around surprisingly fast and he kicked out his leg, tripping Bobby. Chester was on top of him in a second and this time, instead of punching, he wrapped his hand around Bobby's throat and squeezed. For a moment Bobby was stunned. He underestimated Chester again. He saw Angel and Jerry get ready to intervene from the corner of his eye and he waved them off. He was going to finish this himself. He was losing air fast and the edges of his vision were beginning to go black. As he stared into Chester's face, he imagined all that Chester did to Jack. And as he did the anger began to build up inside of him and with one burst of strength he pulled Chester's hands from his neck and pushed him backwards. As he stood, trying to catch his breath, Chester glared at him and jumped to his feet.

"You don't give up!" Chester said, his frustration showing. "Too bad you ain't like your brother. I had the kid screaming and crying in two seconds."

Bobby looked up suddenly, his eyes blazing with anger. Something inside him snapped and Chester saw it. He threw himself at Chester and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him forward. Bobby tore into him mercilessly. He punched him over and over like Chester was just a leather punching bag. And then with one uppercut to the jaw, Chester went sprawling backwards. He landed on his back and remained still. Bobby stood over him, breathing hard. He turned for a second to look at his shocked brothers on the sidelines. Mark looked conflicted; relieved and saddened at the same time.

That's when Jack saw Chester stir and he knew he had to make his move. As Chester stood, ready to attack Bobby, Jack pulled open the basement door and shouted,

"Bobby, watch out!"

Jack threw the bat with all his might and Bobby caught it swiftly, turning and swinging before fully understanding what was going on. The bat caught Chester in the temple and he crumpled to the concrete floor in a heap. He was dead, this time for real. Bobby let the bat fall from his hand and it landed with a loud clank. He looked towards the stairs as Jack walked down. When Jack reached Bobby, Bobby slapped him upside the head.

"Ow, fuck!" Jack said, rubbing his head. "What the fuck was that for?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bobby asked, his voice a mix of incredulity and surprise.

"I figured you might need my help," Jack replied with a shrug.

"Jesus, kid," Bobby said with a chuckle. "If I wasn't so fucking happy to see you I'd kill you for being stupid!"

Jack chuckled as Angel and Jerry made their way over. They both asked Bobby if he was all right and Bobby shrugged them off in his typical tough guy way.

"I'm fine," Bobby said. "I've been worse."

"He sure ain't fine," Jerry said, nodding towards to Chester.

Mark knelt beside his now dead brother, not knowing how to react or what to feel. After a few seconds he stood and walked away. He saw Jack and immediately all the guilt he felt came rushing back to him.

"Jack, I-" he began.

But he didn't get a chance to finish. Jack swung hard and landed a punch on his jaw before an apology could escape his lips. He fell backwards to the ground and he looked shocked. Jack shook his head and offered Mark his hand and he pulled him up when he grabbed onto it. Mark silently rubbed his jaw where a dark bruise was already forming.

"Just go," Jack said. "Start over somewhere that's not here."

Mark nodded silently and muttered his thanks before running up the stairs and disappearing into the night. Jack turned to his brothers who looked identically shocked. Bobby's expression was a mix of pain, shock and pride.

"What?" Jack asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nice right hook, kid," Bobby said. "Maybe you aren't such a fairy after all."

Jack just rolled his eyes but the compliment did make him happy. Angel cleared his throat then and nodded towards the body.

"What do we do with him?"

Bobby grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipped it on and grinned. "Angel-go get the gas can."

A while later, the four Mercer brothers drove into the night, putting the revenge and the flames of the burning house behind them.

...

_**2 Weeks Later**_

"Ma, come on," Angel said as his mother held him in a tight hug.

Stuff like that sometimes made him uncomfortable-especially goodbyes. He had had his "good-bye" with Sofi the night before and it ended on a hood note, thank God. He didn't know how the hell he'd survive in the Marines, with a bunch of guys, without a woman to call or talk to. The good-bye he had with Sofi he could handle. But this one, standing in the foyer with his mother and brothers made him uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing his mother cry. She smiled when she finally pulled back from the hug.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's hard when your children leave home."

"Bobby leaves home all the time, Ma."

"Yeah but Bobby's Bobby," she said and they all laughed when Bobby made a cry of protest. "Seriously," she said. "You be good and be safe and we'll see you soon."

"I'll be home for Christmas," Angel said and hugged her one last time.

"Yeah," Bobby added, clapping Angel on the shoulder. "So will I."

Evelyn hugged him and gave him the same advice-be good and be safe. She hugged them both once more and then ran off into the kitchen before she went in full mother-mode and really started crying. The four brothers were left standing in the foyer; Jack leaning against the stairs, Jerry standing in the middle, Angel and Bobby near the door. They were silent for a few seconds.

The last two weeks passed quickly and they were filled with relaxation and happiness instead of worry and drama. Evelyn went back to work and the brothers enjoyed the time to themselves. Jerry even convinced them to help him with more wedding planning and he took them to get fitted for suits; another story for another time. All in all, the two weeks were a good time, something to make up for the horror they all went through only a short time before. But like most things, the two weeks came to an end and everyone had to go back to their lives. Angel had been called up and he had to report for duty in two days. Bobby stayed home longer than he planned and he had to get back to the bar.

"I'll help you out, Angel," Jerry said, grabbing one of Angel's bags.

Angel gave Jack a good-bye hug and then followed Jerry to Bobby's car. Bobby was giving him a ride to the airport. Bobby and Jack were the only two left standing in the foyer.

"So," Bobby said.

"Say it," Jack said, his voice dry but a smirk on his face.

"What?"

"What you always say before you leave," Jack said.

Bobby scoffed and leaned against the door. "Enlighten me."

Jack's smirk grew. "'Jack, don't do anything stupid or I'll kick your ass back to fairyland.'"

Bobby laughed loudly. "That's good advice. You should take it."

"I can take care of myself, you know," was Jack's reply. He half-scowled.

"One good punch don't mean shit."

Jack shook his head. "Fuck off, man."

"Kid, you let yourself get kidnapped," Bobby said with a laugh. "Be grateful that I didn't but a fuckin' leash on you!"

Jack scoffed. "You would."

"I will," Bobby said seriously and then laughed. He and Jack shared a hug. "Be good, all right?" Bobby said when they pulled apart.

Jack nodded. "I will. And you-come home more than once a year."

"Hey!" Bobby said in mock protest. "I come home more than once a year. Sometimes." He picked up his bag and opened the door. "See you at Christmas, Cracker Jack."

"See you, Bobby."

Jack watched as Bobby said good-bye to Jerry and then got into his car. Bobby drove away and Jerry waved, getting into his own car. Jack shut the door and headed into the living room. He thought of all that had happened and how lucky he was to be alive. But his main thought when he plopped onto the couch was something different.

Finally he had the TV to himself.

...

**A/N: **Waaaah Ommg it's over! I can't believe it. I'm definitely gonna miss writing this, it's been like clockwork for me almost. But I am so extremely happy that I started and finished a story and I couldn't have asked for better reader/reviewers than all of you. Thank you so much for reading! Please review one more time. Until my next story (whenever that may be)…. -Addie


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